One of the slightly annoying things about writing a real-time newsletter like this one is that I sometimes have to eat my words. Iāll publish something like last weekās essay, putting it out into the universe that Iām content with my life, despite it feeling smaller and having fewer opportunities to do fun things. And the universe will respond with, āHold my beer.ā
I had plans to travel to North Carolina last Friday for a weekend getaway with some dear friends from high school, a group fondly known as āthe Sunshines.ā But on Thursdayājust two days after I published that post about how good life feels right nowāmy daughter woke up with a fever and a stomach bug. I followed not long after.
In an eerily and unfairly similar situation to the weekend trip that was canceled when I got COVID, I had to scrap plans to reunite with my friends. For those of you keeping score at home, this means I still havenāt gotten to enjoy a weekend away from parenting duties since becoming a mom. Womp womp.
But this is not a āpoor meā post. Am I bummed? Yes. Am I desperate for some time away? Hell yes! Am I frustrated? You bet. But I also recognize how much privilege and how many blessings I have. Even with this cruel twist from the universe, I still feel pretty content in life right now. I donāt take that for granted.
I did want to share this story, though, because itās a great example of what I planned to write todayās newsletter about: You canāt control most things in life. And because we donāt have a say over things like stomach bugs, setting long-term goals can sometimes be difficult to do.
At the start of 2022, Sweet Dumb Brain editor Becca and I decided to take a different approach to New Yearās resolutions. Instead of naming big, ambitious, long-term goals for a year that would undoubtedly be full of twists and turns out of our control, we decided to set smaller, more manageable weekly intentions. Every Monday, we each named a new goal for the week ahead and reflected on how the previous week went. We created a Google Doc to keep track of all of our intentions and reflections, which also served as a place to cheer each other on along the way.
āIf all goes well, our 2022 intentions document will be proof of a year well-lived,ā I wrote back in January.Ā Ā
It will be a place where we set goals, rooted in kindness and love, and aimed for those things, simply because we want to be kind to and love ourselves. It will be an opportunity to practice forgiveness, flexibility, and optimism during a time when we might feel tempted to give in to negativity.Ā
We have no idea what this year will throw at us. But we can always take things week by week.
A big theme for me this year has been reframing the way I think about time. Oliver Burkemanās book, Four Thousand Weeks, truly opened my mind to the misguided ways that we tend to measure our limited time on earth. I canāt stop thinking about Kurt Vonnegutās idea that there are six seasons, not four. And I felt very validated and seen when I stumbled across this thought-provoking blog post from Ross Zurowski, about exploring different ways of measuring time and setting time-based goals.
āIt seems like thereās merit to finding more personal ways of chunking out time,ā Zurowski wrote. āEspecially in an era with such powerful means to represent time, finding novel and more meaningful timescales seems like fertile ground for exploration.ā
As of today, Becca and I have reached our 49th intention (and week) of the year. While Iām not entirely sure whether our intentions document is proof of a year well-lived, it is proof of how much we careāabout ourselves, about others, and about trying to improve as people.
In 2022, we vowed to do things like lift weights, do yoga, read more regularly, relax, organize our closets, reach out to family members, go on creative dates, and be gentle with ourselves during tough times. Our goals were simple but admirable and, more often than not, we achieved what we aimed to do in a given week. Of course, we did have weeks when we didnāt achieve our intention (or when we forgot to fill out the document entirely!). Those weeks simply presented an opportunity to practice self-compassion.
My favorite part of our intentions document was writing and reading our reflections. Whether it was a week when we declared āI did the thing!ā or one when we explained why an intention didnāt happen, we learned a ton about ourselves this year, which is always a win in my book.
There are only three weeks remaining in the year. Before long, it will be time to turn our attention to 2023. Iāll be asking myself the same questions I always ponder: What do I want to do more of? Less? What would make me feel like Iām spending my time wisely?
As Becca and I near the end of our 2022 intentions document, Iāve felt a twinge of sadness. Itās been such a fulfilling experience to set and track so many simple goals, and itās been doubly fun to do it with a friend. And while we absolutely can (and will!) do it again in 2023, I kept thinking how I wish more people had the opportunity to set loving intentions for themselves each week.
And thatās why Iāve created a customizable weekly intentions document for you to fill out next year!
If youāre a paying subscriber to this newsletter, this guide is one way for me to express my gratitude for your support. Iāve created two versions of this document, accessible using the links below: one that you can fill out on your own, and one you can do with a friend. Choose your own adventure!