At the start of every year, I find myself tumbling into this familiar puddle of thoughts: “You can do more. Start something new! Or, hey, maybe just pick up where you left off. Be better—but give yourself grace. Start slow. Wait… not that slow. Don’t quit, though!” And so the cycle begins, every three months like clockwork.
By the time December rolls around, I often feel like I’m standing in the same spot where I started, but now with a little sidekick called self-doubt tagging along.
But this year feels… different. Not drastically, just a tiny shift (don’t worry, I’m still my slightly neurotic self). I’m starting to notice something: the “new” things I’ve tried over the years have quietly turned into the “normal” things. Without even realizing it, I’ve been growing all along.
Day to day, most things feel the same. Like waiting for spring—watching bare branches, willing them to sprout green. If I stare too hard, it feels like winter will last forever. But if I focus on today, just doing what needs to be done right now, suddenly, growth sneaks up on me. One day, the flowers bloom, and I realize they’ve been inching toward it all along.
This year, I’m easing into the New Year. No dead sprints, no impossible checklists. I’m taking the scenic route instead, breathing a little more, and giving myself permission to acknowledge that I’m already doing okay—maybe even better than okay.
I’ll admit, I’ve never been good at crafting. I always want to rush to the finish, skipping ahead to see the end result. But when I do, the final product is never quite what I hoped because I didn’t take the time to enjoy the process.
So, this year, I want to be like a hand-knit sweater. I want to savor every stitch, even the imperfect ones, knowing that each little moment adds up to something warm and beautiful—a life I love. And one day, I’ll look up and realize that what I was waiting for has been unfolding all along.
I'm A Word Traveler 