I’m writing an obituary to 2015 today.
I’m inspired by Melanie Bates’s article, and especially by this line describing the crap year she had had: “You know how it goes. Everyone is always awesome in an obituary!”
Like Melanie, this one goes out to anyone who had a rough 2015, whether or not you overcame or are still in the dance.
Just thinking that I can see 2015 as awesome is a powerful shift to make.
A shift away from seeing the past year as another failure. A failure to earn enough — again. A failure to recover from a chronic illness — again. A failure to find the love of my life, at least one who thinks the same about me at the same time — again.
Your twelve-month life was, as usual, all over the map. During our time together you brought me moments of peace and joy, moments of fasten-seatbelts jolts and surprises, discouragement, encouragement, and many points in between.
Here are the lights, high and low. They’re all noteworthy, and I list them in order of — I guess in the order of the impact made on my tender heart and seeking spirit:
- The health front was still rough and rugged. Not content with conditions as they were, you decided you just had to have a big moment in April with a recurrence of appendicitis and a three-day hospital stay. The very good news: No surgery, I survived, things subsided back to baseline. Again, not enough for you because you decided you hadda have your year-end swan song. Seriously? Since November: flu, laryngitis, and then pneumonia. Enough already! Dayenu!
- You inspired me to clean up my diet even more. I gave what’s called the Autoimmune Paleo (AIP) protocol a six-month try. Want some more mindfulness around eating? Try AIP for a while.
- You opened up a door in my spirit that I thought was forever closed — the door to Judaism, the spiritual path into which I was born. And what a surprise that was and has been! A full year has gone by and I’m diving deeper and deeper into mystical and sacred Jewish practice and lore.
- You gifted me with a new community of people I really like and love and with new and hugely fun ways to serve. That’s the big gift, for me, of joining a synagogue, one with as vibrant, passionate, and justice-minded a community as the one to which I was led.
- You gave me the opening to have a week on Kauai, which was a week of heaven. Thank you.
- You decided that another year of low revenues from my business was just the ticket! Thanks but no thanks. Not only am I most fervently saying Farewell 2015 to this financial snapshot, but I’m saying Farewell to the mindset I’ve worn like a box of rocks on my shoulders for the last couple of years. Each and every one of those boulders — consider yourself shrugged off, and I’m diving into the work I’m called to do to make 2016 a beautifully prosperous year.
- You wove the threads between me and my daughter even more snugly, tighter, and close so that she and I could deepen and broaden our loving relationship. For which I am ridiculously and giddily grateful. Considering the tense and fraught and scary years of her first two decades, this is a big fat miracle.
- You put some new and refreshing and interesting people in my path, some for the first time, some for a return visit. I am so glad that I’ve learned how to walk with my heart forward, my eyes up, and my hands open — all so I can see what’s in front of me. I am glad that I have learned to stop and connect, even when it’s risky. And I am very glad to see whom I am privileged to encounter, to know, and to help.
Thank you for everything you have taught me. As you hand me off now to young 2016, I go with an undaunted heart, a strong body, curiosity, passion, and the strongest sense of mission I’ve ever had.
How have you said Farewell 2015?
What have you seen? Learned? Released? What are you keeping with you and what’s gotta go? Let’s talk in the comments.