After two weeks of blissfully doing little more than festive cooking and binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy, I’ve spent the day toiling away at packing up Christmas decorations and preparing for life to resume in a new year. 2022. I haven’t seen anyone bold enough to declare that 2022 is going to be their year. Given what the last two years have been like, I think we’re all just hoping this year goes a little bit easier on us.
Reflecting on 2021 (and 2020)
Before I cast my eyes forward to the new year, allow me to indulge in a bit of reflection. As we know, these have been difficult years. My big-picture, general association with 2020 is of stripping down. Isolation, loss, suspended animation. Grieving. What has stuck with me as a characterization of 2021 is Adam Grant’s piece on languishing. Things have been ok. Nothing (for me) has been terribly awry. There have even been some positive developments and joyful moments. But overall, my primary impression of 2021 is of drabness.
My other primary impression of 2021– which I did not think applied to me, but perhaps in fact did– is intense burnout amidst this strange game of pretending that we’re not in an ongoing pandemic. Emblematizing this, for me, is hearing many teacher/professor friends describe this past semester as brutal. Students have been struggling, acting out, coping with severe mental health issues, etc., and their instructors haven’t been doing much better. It seems we’ve wanted to demand pre-pandemic activity from ourselves and each other without actually exiting pandemic conditions.
I didn’t think this applied to because I wasn’t teaching, and more generally, my day-to-day life hasn’t really changed all that much since I moved to Chicago in June 2020. But in reflecting on my experience of 2021, connected to the feeling of languishing is this struggle to find the energy to do the kinds of low-key creative activities that I have loved to do for my lunalutions in the past– sketching, embroidering, hand lettering, creative writing, etc. I keep joking that I want the feeling of painting, but I think I need it to be paint-by-numbers because tapping into any really creative energy just feels too hard.
This leads me back to the sentiment with which I started 2021. I did not want it to be a wash; I did not want to surrender another year to stasis; I wanted to “risk delight” after a year of grief. And I stand by that sentiment. But then I also remember the feeling of trying to muscle through the blah indifference of languishing that I associate with 2021, and… that’s not great, either.
But the funny thing is that in thinking back to 2020, even though I think of it as this time of isolation and loss and nothingness, there is actually quite a bit of creative work that I produced in 2020 that I really cherish, both in terms of output and the experience of producing it. So, what’s up with that?
I’ve realized, however, that for the most part I did not work on those cherished creative pieces from 2020 on my own. Most of these pieces resulted from special arrangements with friends to create refuge from the awfulness of 2020. Creativity was in large part possible in that context because of connection and support, not (generally speaking) because I was trying to muscle my way through on my own.
Looking Forward to 2022
Reflecting on all of this– as well as the delicious feeling of being rested after two weeks of doing nothing– the sensibility I am striving to take into the new year is animated by some of the images and lessons from my yoga practice: allowing my yoga block to make things a little bit easier for me; taking a child’s pose when needed; seeing where I can stop gripping; not pushing into a twist and forcing myself into a pose, but moving slowly and seeing how far I get today. Balancing strength and ease. Pushing myself, but also resting. Finding support from within and also from without.
So my challenge this year (and really, every year) will be to try to do the things I want to do while also finding ways to support those activities and make time to rest and recover. I have some ideas for some of these things about how I will get that support (e.g. workshops I want to be part of and professional support) and/or make things easier for myself, but I also welcome lunalution buddies if there’s an overlap of interests.
With that said, here is a rough, tentative breakdown of what I might want to do this year:
- January- 30 days of yoga with Adriene (this year’s series is called Move)
- February- Less Sedentary February
- March- Feel-Good Medley (I just can’t decide on one thing for my birthday month!)
- April- Vegan April
- May- Illinois Driver’s License (it’s a long story and a pandemic tragedy)
- June- Poetry/ Creative Writing
- July- Mobility Work
- August- Explore Chicago
- September- Running
- October- Painting
- November- Handlettering notes
- December- Rest/ Reboot / Reflect
In addition to this, I once again want to endeavor to make at least 1 fun dish per month, and especially to actually use the cookbooks I’m excited about. I also want to find ways to simplify my routine, day-to-day cooking to make some space for the more involved cooking.
We shall see how things go, and I will strive to keep you posted. What vibes and intentions are you entering the new year with? What are you wanting to do or not do this year?
Lunalutions 