This year, more than most, I have felt the pressure. And I wonder if more people are feeling it this year than any other? Christmas can often feel like you're under pressure to live up to other people's expectations of the perfect Christmas, and as I sat in between one year and the next, I felt the pressure to have it all figured out by January. But I don’t, not quite. The fact that this very email is landing gently into your inbox on the 2nd of January is a testament to that. The truth is I sat down to edit yesterday and felt the need to write something else entirely, a 2023 letter to myself, a reminder to shake off the pressure and go gently into the new year rather than give myself some unattainable rules to live by.
Where the hell did resolutions come from anyway?
I needed to get back to where it all started. When did we start feeling the need to put undue pressure on ourselves to transform? Turns out the idea of New Year's resolutions goes back to 2000. B.C when New Year fell at the beginning of the farming season. The Babylonians made resolutions to return borrowed farm equipment. That sounds achievable and not out of reach.
It then shifted in Roman times in 46 B.C to January 1st, when Romans would promise good behaviour in the year ahead. Here we have it, folks. The pressure begins. What does good behaviour mean? How do you know if you've succeeded? And how the hell can you maintain that one without losing your mind? After all, we can’t be good all the time, can we?
Then in medieval times, knights would renew their vow to chivalry by placing their hands on a peacock. Yes, you read that one right, a peacock. The annual 'Peacock Vow' would take place at the end of the year as a resolution to maintain their knightly values. Essentially to reinforce something they were already doing. I quite like that idea, not the peacock part, they can be vicious.
Be it 2000 B.C or 2023 the premise remains the same, it’s a firm decision to do or not do something: to lose weight, to stop smoking, to run more. Thinking about resolutions in this way rarely works without next-level dedication. For years I resolved to be a better neighbour. Moving from central London to the burbs, I felt I should have more connections with my community. Every year I failed to deliver. Why? Because what did that even mean? It was vague and most of all it was a Should. It was what I should do rather than what I wanted to do. It was not going to work, so I stopped beating myself up. After all, no one else was.
Resolutions, as we have come to know them, all rely on some huge transformation. But life rarely works like that. I like to think of changes in small manageable increments, that seem almost insignificant at the time but add up to the most wonderful things. Changes in direction, passions rediscovered and shared, questions asked and answered. The opportunity is endless when you break them into small manageable steps. Each one, building a story, your story.
When I looked back on the last year, I could see a story forming. 2 themes were emerging: curiosity and discovery. I started the year with no idea, not a clue, only a self-development course and a writing course booked. Then step by step, I started to wander, discover passions I’d forgotten about and get curious about how I might use these to forge a new path. The more I got curious about things, the more things started to take shape. I built a brand, a website and took the plunge into self-employment. I started this newsletter. Did I figure it all out? Not a chance, but I started one step at a time.
This year, whilst I have a slightly stronger direction, I'm comfortable it might change. New paths might open up, offering detours to take me to new destinations. My story is still unfolding. As I move into 2023 my words are courage and community. I want to go after what I want without fear holding me back. I want to build a community of people. My people, who I can share with and learn from. Those who I can support and be supported by. And that begins here.
Wherever you find yourself today, know that you are not defined by what you do or don’t do at a certain moment, by a certain time. Find your path and enjoy your journey and go gently into tomorrow. You don't have to have it all figured out. Just put one foot in front of the other.
I’ve loved this journey of curiosity and discovery so I plan to do more of this in 2023. These are some of the questions I’m curious to find the answers to this year.
How to manage online life better? - In 2022 I’ve been online more, I’ve had to be from a work perspective, but I’ve struggled with the feeling I need to be present all the time. I’m looking for a balance between what I need to do and what feels right for me. I’m reading Disconnected by Emma Gannon a guide for how to start human in an online world.
How to build a freelance writing career? – Writing has been one of my greatest joys of 2022 so I’d like to find a way to do more of it in 2023. Now I just have to figure out how.
How to work better? – I’m not talking productivity here but how to make work work for you. I’ve been reading Workstyle by Lizzie Penny and Alex Hirst that promises to revolutionise the way we work.
How to find the right community? – If you’ve read my post Why are we still so uncomfortable talking about failure you will know I failed at networking in 2022. I’ve concluded it’s a ‘it’s not me it’s you’ scenario so am on the hunt for ‘the one’ or an alternative to traditional networking.
What do you do with life when you don’t have kids? – I’ve pondered this one over the last year and intend to write more about this in the coming year.
Lovely to connect. It’s really fascinating re the origin of resolutions. I stripped a lot of the “expectation” of Christmas back this year - I deleted social media and really questioned what I was putting into my trolley in supermarkets and why - it felt better and January has been easier without all of the “stuff” to use up too. Also just read Disconnected - enjoyed the questions it brought up for me and I would read again.