For the past few years I’ve been doing the whole three word thing at the end of December or beginning of January to get myself ready for the new year ahead. I chosen three words and then rarely, if ever, looked back at them. Because you make plans and God laughs, as the saying goes. Life swoops the rug out from under me and who I am at the beginning of the year has little to do with who I am at the end.
This year I didn’t. I thought about it. I tried to figure out what those words would be. What means something? What am I striving for? But the ideas didn’t come. There are so many things that I want for myself. So many things I want from myself.
So I skipped it.
But now I know.
Now I know what this year is going to be about. In the words of Lin-Manuel Miranda, this year I will Rise Up.
I will face my challenges head on. I will face the world and fight the good fit. I will Rise Up like the nasty woman that I am. Because there is no sitting down.
I’m going to stop throwing away my shot, as it were. Since I really want to belabour the point.
This seems like a good year to Rise Up, doesn’t it. And not just because we’re going to see Hamilton in May. There is a lot at stake and I’m willing to throw my hat in – if you need me to march, sign, subscribe, donate I’ll do what I can.
And when you need self care, I have an adorable puppy:
You see, I turn 36 this year, and the older I get the more I realize: fuck this shit. Seriously. I’m looking out for me and the people I care about (and also fundamental human rights).
All of this to say, we had a mental health presentation at work today and I learned that there are ‘zones’ of health and I am currently full on red zone. This means that things can only improve from here. Except that is actually up to me.
So I’m taking steps, and I shall rise again. Oh, I shall.