I’m feeling optimistic about 2019, which is a marked difference from the deep depression I was in this time last year.
That’s not to say I think 2019 will be free of sorrow. This might be the year that my champion of dog, who turns 12 this month, passes away. I may lose a family member or close friend; I could get in an accident or receive a serious diagnosis; I might have trouble finding work or Florida could get battered by another hurricane (or three). There are countless bad things that could happen this year. And yet, I’m feeling positive.
I know that for every bad thing that might occur, there’s another good thing that could happen. I could get engaged, or publish a book, or adopt another champion of a dog. My family could get bigger, instead of smaller. I could eat healthier and exercise more and feel better than I have in years.
The things that could go right in our lives usually require effort and work. And, for the most part, we have little to no control over the things that could go wrong. They just happen, often without warning.
My positivity about 2019 isn’t because I believe that it’s time for good things to return to my life. Of course, I hope that there will be more to celebrate than mourn, but I also know I have little say over that. I’m optimistic about this year because I feel more in control of how I respond to events; I’m more comfortable with the pendulum that constantly swings between the good and the bad.
The most meaningful book I read last year was Pema Chödrön’s “When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times.” Its ultimate message really stuck with me: Life is always in transition, and we’ll find peace if we accept its ever-changing nature.
“Relaxing with the present moment, relaxing with hopelessness, relaxing with death, not resisting the fact that things end, that things pass, that things have no lasting substance, that everything is changing all the time — that is the basic message,” wrote Chödrön.
Her words helped me to stop thinking that my life would be better once I got past Jamie’s death. Instead, I opened my mind to the reality that bad things will always happen, as will the good — and that it’s all part of life. “We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem,” Chödrön explained, “but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”
No matter what joys and miseries 2019 will bring, I’m approaching the year by being open to it all. Life is less about trying to balance the good and the bad, hoping that it all evens out in the end. It’s about appreciating the good, learning to weather the bad, and being grateful that we get to experience it all in the first place.
xoxo
KHG
p.s. Thank you to everyone who filled out the survey about My Sweet Dumb Brain! Your feedback is incredibly helpful and encouraging. If you haven’t yet responded, please take a few minutes to share your thoughts. I greatly appreciate it!
Ch-ch-changes
It’s a brand new year, and time for some brand new approaches to this newsletter. Here’s what we’ve got planned for 2019:
Monthly themes: We’re getting focused! Each month, we’ll tackle a different theme — success, anxiety, grief, confidence, etc. — with a new essay each week on that topic. The weekly guided exercises will tie into the monthly theme, allowing you to approach each month with intention.
Questions and advice: In lieu of an essay, some weeks will feature a question (or two) related to the month’s topic, along with advice on how to approach it. We’ll see how this goes! I’m not a therapist nor do I have all the answers, but I love to share advice when I can, and I love thoughtful questions even more.
Guest essays: I’d like to bring in several guest writers this year, offering up diverse perspectives and experiences. If you’re interested in writing, just respond to this email and let me know; I’m building a roster of writers as we speak. (Important caveat: My Sweet Dumb Brain is currently a labor of love, and I can’t pay guest writers. I would love to change this someday! For now, if you want to write, the payment is the good vibes that come from baring your soul to strangers. Trust me — it’s hugely rewarding.)
Shareable posts: My Sweet Dumb Brain has an archive! Each week’s essay will also be published on Medium (here’s today’s post). Medium posts work a lot better on social media than Mailchimp, plus I make a little money with each view, so please share away!
What will stay the same: “Good job, brain,” “Additional resources,” and “For your sweet dumb brain,” will return to their usual rotation next week.
Spread the word
Newsletters, like so many things in life, rely on word of mouth. If you’ve enjoyed My Sweet Dumb Brain, please encourage a friend or two to subscribe, or share your favorite post from last year. I’m excited about trying a different newsletter approach, and looking forward to sharing this newsletter with an even wider audience in 2019. Here’s to a new year!