I tried (& some end-of-year reflections)

For all of us who are too tired to make resolutions...

I tried to write an end-of-year post for weeks now. Something raw and truthful and inspiring. Something to send you into the new year with guts and gumption. I tried to find the words, but turned up…blank. 

I tried to get ahead as we wrap up the final days of 2023. To get the house organized and the inbox clear and the work calendar filled. To write the to-do list (even if I can’t cross anything off). I tried to get myself prepared for the year ahead, but felt…unmotivated.

I tried to spend time with loved ones - equally dividing my time between friends and family (while also proving I can make time for myself). I tried to make space for connection and deep conversation, but always fell…short. 

I tried to work out more and drink less. Write more and work less. Sleep more and stress less. Read more and spend less. Connect more and complain less.

I tried to find that mythical and illusive creature called, “balance.”

I tried.

I tried.

I tried.

Not finishing, not accomplishing, not completing. But trying.

And perhaps, sometimes, the simple act of trying is enough.

Among all the noise of GOALS! and INTENTIONS! and RESOLUTIONS! we miss out on the unadulterated innocence of trying (free from the pressure of the outcome).

Because…

Trying to read a book a week means I’m reading stories again (even if I only finish one book this year).

Trying to have a full workout routine means I’m taking more regular walks with my dog (even if that’s the only activity I manage).

Trying to write a memoir means I’m finally putting pen to paper and have written the initial pages of a shitty first draft (even if it never gets finished).

Trying is doing.

Trying is effort.

Trying is action. 

Trying is waking up and reminding yourself to take a breath and start the coffee and then trusting the rest will unfold as needed.

Trying is one small, yet unequivocally, imperative step to the rest (whatever the rest may be).

So here’s to trying more in 2024, whether we finish (the book, the plan, the ___)…or not.

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And to leave you with some inspiration from someone who could find the words, a poem from Donna Ashworth:

Why do we start a new year, with promises to improve?
Who began this tradition of never-ending pressure?
I say, the end of a year, should be filled with congratulation, for all we survived.
And I say a new year should start with promises to be kinder to ourselves, to understand better just how much we bear, as humans on this exhausting treadmill of life.

And if we are to promise more, let’s pledge to rest, before our bodies force us.
Let’s pledge to stop, and drink in life as it happens.
Let’s pledge to strip away a layer of perfection to reveal the flawed and wondrous humanity we truly are inside.

Why start another year, gifted to us on this earth, with demands on our already over-strained humanity.
When we could be learning to accept, that we were always supposed to be imperfect.
And that is where the beauty lives, actually.
And if we can only find that beauty, we would also find peace.

I wish you peace in 2024.
Everything else is all just a part of it.
Let it be so.

- Donna Ashworth