There is no one who ever wanted to pause last year. And I get it.
However, I was forced to pause, quite a few times. And other times, I made an effort to pause myself. I set some pretty healthy boundaries with my work. And as a result of my boundaries (and a result of outside forces beyond my control), my work life shifted a bit last year. I made leaps in some spots and stayed sort of still in others. I paused a lot before I committeed to things and sometimes, I opted to pause for a long time, leaving space for it all to just be.
As I enter 2022, I am ready to unpause. Setting those boundaries, when I could (trust me there are somethings that you want to fence off, but simply cannot lest you find yourself unemployed), left me feeling a bit flat at the end of the year. I had an exercise for a retreat at ALSF and needed to share my big success for the year. I struggled--because there wasn't one exhausting, exhilirating, momentous thing I accomplished. But, I am realizing as I begin to plan my work 2022 that I should not feel flat, I should feel rested and full of perspective. I know what I want to accomplish in 2022 and all of that required this year of pause and reflection.
It should be no surprise to my regulars that I prayed about my word of year for 2022. And it's no surprise to me that I landed on a word that is both active and salad dressing related (because God loves a laugh and a theme!):
If you read my blog last night (not just the teaser!) you will know that I am no longer allowing store-made salad dressings control my life. I am also not allowing ingredients that I don't select dress my days either. I want to select the things I want, pop in my life's mason jar and shake it all up.
This year, I want to ask crazy questions and dream ridiculous things and move the dial on the things that are important to me. I paused for 365 days, caught my breath, observed some things and now, I think I can tap into my endless, slightly delusional ambition and get on it with it.
It's time friends, to shake.
But not like an earthquake. The world does not need one more horrific episode. More like an artisanal bougee milkshake that looks pretty, tastes even prettier and everyone waits in line for (while masked, 6 feet apart and 5 days after the onset of symptoms). Or like a firm, non-sweaty handshake that let's you know who is in charge (of course after both parties washed their hands while singing happy birthday 17 times and virgorously scrubbing because everyone knows it is the friction that kills germs!)
Anyway, I am off to shake, what my mama gave me. (or whatever.).
PS I promise to share a salad dressing recipe tomorrow!