And trust me, I know checking things off your list is satisfying. BUT, I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished much this year. I know this probably isn’t true; but I can tell you for certain I am not going to close out 2022 saying, “WOW TRISH YOU DID IT” and like throw my virtual graduation hat or post an exploding confetti emoji.
I know I could do this and I could fake all my amazing-ness. But, I don’t feel like it and I don’t feel amazing. What I feel is, just okay.
I think I am satisfied with Okay, for now. It is not that I lack ambition, it is just that I am happy with okay. I am happy that my house is cozy and my kids are healthy and with my blue painted office walls and with the painting of Desecheo island that hangs above the television in my bedroom. I fine just being okay. I haven’t published much beyond this blog; I haven’t made strides towards a book. I haven’t bravely given up my gigs to dedicate myself to my writing. I’ve had some wins at work; but also I’ve had some hard hits and struggles. And I haven’t figured out how to describe what I write to anyone. I doubt most of my friends know anything about my writing life—maybe they do—but they probably don’t. This used to bother me. But now, it’s okay.
I have a giant list of things I want to do and want to accomplish. In November, I thought I’d push towards those goals and push myself towards reaching them before the year closed out. But then a colleague said to me, that in her mind 2023 was already here. Initially this sent me into a tailspin—like I was even more behind than I thought. But, then, my 13 year old daughter said to me, “Mommy when are we just going to enjoy the season?”
So, friends, yes, 2023 is basically already here. My to do list will be there as it has been, no matter what the calendar says. I think, I am just going to enjoy the season.