2024 in Review
On Reflecting & Looking Forward
Reflecting
This week, you can expect a couple of posts that loosely mirror the sections of this newsletter that I initially intended to be part of every edition but are decidedly not that consistent: Work, Input/Output, Balance. This is the first in that series, partially because I have a little survey that I’d love to share with you as I’m thinking about January’s yoga offerings and beyond. If you have three minutes and could click here (even if you haven’t attended any classes - there are questions for you, too!), I’d so appreciate it!
A year is a long time. As I started flipping back through my planner (because, yes, I can’t seem to function without a paper planner, so maintain it, a Google Calendar for yoga and one for my life, AND an Outlook calendar for work - it’s a bit of a nightmare), I was surprised by several things that I would have sworn MUST be longer than a year ago.
A year ago, I was still spending two nights a week reading books called “Leverage Leadership 2.0” and “Get Better Faster.” (Useful content, and also good riddance.)
A year ago, I had never taken a yin yoga class. (Now, I take 1-2 a week)
A year ago, I was still finishing my first primary literacy training. (Now I’ve taken 3.)
A year ago, I hadn’t scored any asana finales for Breathe for Change. (I’m gearing up for my second and third ones early this spring.)
A year ago, I was still working on the last baby blanket in a six-blanket stretch that feels so long ago (haven’t made a blanket since then!).
A year ago, I hadn’t navigated a major pet emergency. (It feels like an eternity ago, but I’m better prepared and more level-headed about all things dog-related now.)
I think the reason these things seem surprising, at least a little bit, is that I’m not one for fast changes. I can know something in my head for literal years before I ever act on it. I have been trying to be someone who gardens for at least 5 years; I have still not done so successfully. I had a decade-long yoga practice before I pursued teacher certification. I have known my pantry needs to be reorganized since school started and have done…nothing…about that. So I think of a single year as a pretty short timeframe to make meaningful shifts, and am a little astonished to see what things have changed (and sustained) during a year that doesn’t feel earth-shattering to me.
In Ina Garten’s memoir, she talked about how an editor/friend remarked on her struggle to make plans during a major transition. She wrote: “She (Cecily Shanahan) saw that I was struggling for answers and tried to reassure me. She told me that “Type A” people (I guess she was talking about me!”) can’t begin to think about what to do next until they stop what they’re doing. They need space and time to allow “the universe” to reveal what is next.”
I’ve maybe never felt so seen by a piece of text. I would NOT have thought that being Type A and needing space from things from the “universe” went together, but this is true beyond measure. Because I tend to move too fast, with too many plates in the air at once because it makes me happy (until it really doesn’t), it is hard to make decisions about moving forward until, either by choice or force, I stop. So I guess that I’m glad, at least in some ways, that something managed to shift even though it didn’t feel like there was a significant moment of pause or a decision to move forward on certain things.
Looking Ahead
I haven’t completed my deep-dive into this year yet, and I’m not sure that those ideas are 1.) something I want to share or 2.) something anyone actually wants to read. With that in mind, though, I know that I’m looking forward to developing my yoga practice and teaching in a variety of ways, to spending more time outside, to eating more fresh herbs (thanks, Dan Pashman, for creating the food new year’s resolution), and to working on my relationship to conspicuous consumption. I’m also going to be thinking (and probably writing) about the tension of a desire for more space, more time with nothing scheduled and the reality that if you don’t make good things happen, they very often won’t.
Invitation to Reflection
If you’d like to take a look at one process for using this weird twilight zone of a week to reflect on your year, you can check out this post from last year.
Some additional favorite prompts that I’m interested to try in the rotation this year include (from Courtney Martin & Katie Levitt):
What bit of nature meant the most to you this year? What more-than-human-world relationship did your nurture? (with a tree, an animal etc.)
Whose relationship to time do you admire most? How can you apply their mentality to your own life in the coming year?
What can stillness bring me? How do I feel about stillness and why?