Monday 7 January 2019

Now.

(New Year wishes tradition. 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015 here).


This year build moments of stillness.

Time, I’m told, is intent on taking us forward, notifications are intent on spinning us in circles inside our own head. Between these two, plant a flag with your face on its banner, stake claim to portions of your own day and build stillness and quiet.
If Enid Blyton books are to be believed, that’s when you can hear the fairies in the garden. Though, 

I’d even settle for the chirping of house sparrows and starlings at dawn.


This year, don’t believe

Statistics or trend reports of what’s in, definitions of millenials, Gen Zs and everything right, wrong and about to happen to  them. Don’t believe, subscribe or be defined by anything other than what your life’s work has been so far and what you want it to be from here on. Let all belief, definition and proof stem from the sweat and heat of your daily actions, let them move you towards the goofball, weird shaped, hip-swivelling, sometimes-twerking, sometimes- moody, joy infected life you wanted to create. 
QED.


This year chase magnificence, like you’re the ruler of your own kingdom.
(Spoiler alert: you are!)
We’re growing older, wearier, more tired and distracted every year. So this year, find and chase magnificence every day, in thought, word and action. Attack what you plan to do with the zeal and urgency of a superstar awaiting her next big release. From lying in bed doing nothing, to spending Sunday with your houseplants, to making your list of chores for the week, or just hanging out with your grandmother in the winter sun; do everything with the spirit of magnificence.
Oh and before you ask, magnificence can look like the Taj Mahal on some days and like the steady, calm drumming of your own heartbeat on another.


This year place yourself firmly in the middle of people.

Step outside of your own small locust of problems. Of unreturned texts, a syllabus that doesn’t make sense, parents who never understood you, a passion that refuses to be found and subsequently chased, a partner who doesn’t get what you never really say and old friends who keep changing into new, different people.

Step outside of the mountainous shadow of those concerns and study the world outside. Read the paper (the actual journalistic take not the bite-sized version on an app), then read a book about a region, political situation, tribe, animal on threat of extinction you find yourself caring about. Immerse yourself in the very real dangers of worlds outside of your own. 
It will make you better at dealing with yours and maybe you’ll find a way to save or make a difference to someone else’s.


This year, dance.

To the tune of your own, weird happy impulses. At least once a week. If you find a happy impulse lightly tickling the back of your throat, reminding you to not be chained to a must/should/have to, then follow that impulse down the street and hopefully it will lead you to someplace wonderfully new or someplace deliciously old, both of which you never would have discovered if you stayed on schedule or in bed.


This year, love
like some terrible Instagram poets want you to, like the old couple married for 55 years oblivious to rising divorce rates do, like the siblings ferociously protecting each other into adulthood or like everyone who will fall in love all over again this year will.
Love every way you know how to, then find new ways to better those ways and then love better. Do this over and over again with everyone you care about. 
This is what is known as the evolution of personhood and what a fantastic time to commit to it, like

the start of this year.


Happy new year.


                                                (Swinging into 2019. This is from one of my favourite memories of 2018)