Happy New Year, sweetest friends!
I hope the last quarter of 2018 treated you well and that however you are walking into this new year, you realize the vastness of your potential and the opportunities that are waiting for you.
The last quarter of 2018 came with many unexpected changes that I was in no way ready for. I needed to take some time to be still to reflect on both the changes and the way I reacted to them. If I’m really real, the last quarter of 2018 wasn’t my best. October to December was a lot less about me talking to you all and a lot more about me checking my feelings enough to go where God was calling me to be.
But I’m back, with some lessons and reflections that I know will manifest into some good stuff for all of us in 2019. And the first starts with a shift in our perspective.
I say our, because this is as much for me as it is you.
A Perspective Shift
As we enter a season of goal writing and intention setting, I want to offer a perspective shift that will allow us to the appreciate our journeys as much as we do the rewards that are bound to come from them.
What if we declared 2019 as the year of enough?
When we think about the word “enough” we typically think of being fed up.
Tired of being tired.
A refusal to settle for anything less than the picture we’ve stubbornly drawn in our minds.
Or a fullness that comes from having all we want or think we need.
But that’s not what I’m talking about.
What if we became less attached to our mental pictures of what “should” be and found beauty in what is?
How would life change if we sought gratitude for each experience we lived through or person we encountered?
Not because of the box they checked from our list of things to accomplish this year, but because of the lessons they taught us, the happiness they filled us with, or the clarity we gained.
What if we held that gratitude regardless of how long they stayed, how different the opportunity looked, or how unusual the path was?
My Commitments
I am working to live with this kind of intentionality in 2019.
This year, I commit to:
Letting it be what it is.
Showing gratitude for what was.
Making space, not assumptions, about what will come next.
Now, there are 2 types of people in this world:
Those who deal in what is.
Those who fight for what should be.
We need both.
One isn’t better than another.
But I live squarely in the world of what should be.
I find when I’m most frustrated it is because something isn’t “the way it should be”.
So you can see how hard these commitments are going to be for me.
By this point in the post, I see some of ya’ll bringing back that mean side eye from 2018. Looking at me like, “Nik, so you’re telling me to lower my standards in 2019. Ain’t. No. Way. Sis. ”
No, girl.
I know you well enough and love you too much to ever ask you to do that.
But I am asking you to stop applying the same evaluation tool to every area of your life.
Which brings me to my first commitment: Let it be what it is.
Let it be what is it.
How many times have you been in a situation and couldn’t see it for what it was worth because it wasn’t what you thought it should be?
You wound up mad because you’ve somehow convinced yourself that because it isn’t what you want, it’s not valuable.
You missed the beauty in what is because you’re so focused on what it wasn’t.
It’s not your dream job…but without it, you can’t develop the skills you need to get that job.
You’re so busy analyzing what he said or didn’t say, that you completely miss the fact that you’ve just enjoyed a nice evening in the company of someone you want to know more about.
When my husband and I moved from D.C. we took the money we used to rent the rent money from our 1 bedroom 1 bathroom apartment and rented a 3 bedroom 2 bathroom house in Atlanta.
I loved that house.
In my mind it was perfect.
And then we decided to leave it to move into an apartment so we could save some money and buy our own house.
I hated that apartment.
I cried when we moved in.
It wasn’t where I thought we should live. It wasn’t as cute as my little rental house. I had to share a bathroom with Shamar. I had a patio instead of a backyard. I knew every time my neighbor was smoking weed. I convinced the tenants upstairs were rhinos in stilettos.
Ya’ll would have thought someone had thrown me in a cardboard box.
But the beauty of that place was that we saved for our downpayment in about 10 months.
I couldn’t appreciate that apartment because I was looking at it through the lens of what it wasn’t–a permanent home–instead of what it was: a temporary stepping stone.
That apartment was necessary.
Without it, I wouldn’t be writing this from the comforts of my home office.
You see, it’s not about lowering your standards, it’s about seeing a situation or a person through the right lens.
I’m so grateful for that little apartment now.
And I bet if you think about, there are some things you need to show gratitude for too.
Show gratitude for what was.
While I’m incredibly grateful for our time in our apartment now, it’s actually not what I lead with when I talk about it. Normally my ungrateful ahh sounds something like, “Thank God we don’t have to deal with that nasty parking garage anymore!”
Why is it so easy to remember the most negative aspects of things that once brought clarity, discipline, or joy?
A friendship or relationship ends and we can immediately recall all the ways that person wasn’t good to us–but what about all of the times they were?
When they rooted you on?
Cried for your losses?
Laughed with you until your stomach hurt?
You’re so glad to be done with that boss who couldn’t do x, y, and z…but what about all of the things he or she could do?
The way they pushed you because they knew you were capable of more? The personal care they showed you.
Now, I’m not sitting here encouraging you to put rose colored glasses over all the ugly and hurt in your life, or somehow telling you to go back. We left those people and experiences in the past for valid reason.
I’m just asking you to take your crap colored glasses off and realize that everything you’ve gone through and everyone you’ve encountered isn’t terrible.
This year, I choose to remember the friendships, relationships, and experiences that are no longer a part of daily life with fondness and gratitude. Even at their worst, I walked away smarter or stronger because of them.
Make space, not assumptions, for what is to come.
Mannnnnn, if I had a dollar for every time a plan didn’t come together in the way I thought it would, I wouldn’t be back at work right now.
I’d be headed to the PJ (private jet for the commoners) on my way to Cabo.
But I don’t.
So I’m back to the grind.
What I do have though are memories of all the times I was anxious about situations I had no control over and how that anxiety did nothing to help rectify the situation.
So this year, I commit to make space for what is to come. I will evaluate what still fulfills and inspire me. I will take stock of the impact of the people in my life and I will, if need be, graciously remove myself from experiences and relationships that no longer serve me well.
I will take with me from those things the discipline, insight, positive memories, and lessons learned.
I refuse to crowd my life with anxiety and worrying that can’t add a single moment to my life.
I cannot have faith that all things are working for my good and that positive things are manifesting themselves on my behalf while cluttering my mind with unnecessary worry.
I will show myself kindness and grace when I begin to paint the mental picture of what the future “should” look like and instead remind myself of how exhilarating it is to know that my future holds bigger wilder more fulfilling opportunities than my silly little picture ever could.
There’s magic in our musings and our perspectives,
Nicole