At the beginning of the year, there’s usually a rush to the gyms, to counselling and to a new mental space. A mental space we tell ourselves is far more improved than the one we were in during the last year, even if only 2 weeks have passed.
The entry into 2021 feels a bit desperate to me. It doesn’t hold with it that hope of bettering ourselves, I just feel like everyone is hurting so deeply that we’re trying to put as much space as we can between ourselves and 2020.
The new year mentality, that ancient “New Year, New Me” proverb, has buckled under the weight of groundhog day. Lockdown after lockdown, seeing people break restrictions constantly, it’s so disheartening.
So, I want to make a little effort to resurge that Ancient Proverb. This is a new year. This is a new version of us, albeit a slightly hardier, restricted version. I definitely don’t want a resurgence of that toxic positivity though, so I’m starting small.
One thing I’m trying to practice is spending more time recognising what I am actually feeling. I think I know what I think (“When will this be over?”), but I don’t think I realise what I feel (“I”m feeling trapped”).
I also don’t think I’m alone with this.
I think this seems very daunting to me at the minute, to project my feelings on a world I know I don’t understand. I have decided to start smaller, and to reflect on a huge love for me: Poetry.
Katie bought me This Book I have been interested in for a while now. For 365 days of the year, this book delivers for you a beautiful, or funny, or sad poem. The poems are matched with the seasons, with certain yearly events.
For me, someone who craves stability more than anything at the minute: It is so comforting to know that already prepared is a poem for all my happiest days, all my darkest days, but also the days which will slip by without me realising. Here is my companion to talk to every night of the year, who is ready to listen.
I always enjoyed the idea of journalling, but eventually, my thoughts became chaotic, unorganised and uninteresting. With this book, I do a different type of journalling.
I have a post-it note which I write how the poem makes me feel, and I stick it onto the day the poem is for. I write my overarching thoughts of the days, what I hope for the future, what I enjoy, or what I’m grateful for. Some days I write “didn’t like poem” or “poem okay”. This isn’t something I feel pressured by.
It is fascinating seeing what comes out, simply with the prompt of a poem.
I title each post-it “Dear” and the date. It is simple, but wonderful. Plus you don’t harm the book in the process, which is a thought which brings me a lot of simple joy.
Perhaps you could try it, or perhaps you love journalling. I would love to hear about what you do at the minute to feel grounded, and yourself.
Have a wonderful day, friends.