Listening to what is true for us
An assortment of (New Year) reflections
I’m not ready to be yanked into the new year. I want to eat chocolate for breakfast and wear my pyjamas until lunchtime. [Okay okay - I didn’t do that every day of my Christmas break, but on the days I did, I had no regrets.] But I can’t. It’s time to emerge from my cocoon and be of some practical use to society again.
I have always found re-entry after the festive period tricky. One survival strategy has been to give social media a wide berth. The calls to review 2022 and set goals are keeping me away, but perhaps I might find comfort from others who feel the same as me. Perhaps there will be less New Year, New You nonsense, as the post-pandemic revolt against hustle culture continues to rise.
Perhaps it is not my inability to switch on and off like a Duracell bunny that is the problem at all, but a reluctance to be dictated to about when and how I should work. Annoyingly, there is no boss or work rota I can blame, only my inner critic telling me how my diary should look at this time of year.
At the start of 2022 I felt much the same, and for the first time since becoming a responsible adult, I did not set any new year goals. Instead I chose a word, a quality, I wished to embody more of, and invited it to cast a spell on my year. The word was creativity, and was whispered to me quietly, but clearly, on a solitary walk one afternoon in the lead up to Christmas day. If you’ve been reading here a while, you know what happened next. Whilst the creative projects I have started in the past twelve months are in their infancy, I reckon a job offer from Hogwarts isn’t out of the question. The whole word/spell thing worked.
And now I find myself waiting to be visited by the same divine whisper. What will the word for 2023 be? I am walking every day, whatever the weather, and straining my ears to hear. But so far, nada.
And so today, I offer this collection of assorted reflections and emerging intentions as I sit with my new year resistance, and wait for inspiration to arrive and hope that wherever you are in your own re-entry, there is something here that resonates.
… Spring is a long way off and I am not ready to leap into action like a newborn lamb. I choose to honour my internal rhythms and hold them as sacred. I will move my body slowly. Take regular breaks. Continue with my afternoon stroll in my new favourite coat, even if for only twenty minutes. I will eat what comforts and warms me, as my body feels the cold. There are still several boxes of mince pies in the cupboard after all.
…Perhaps each day of the year ahead can include a little of the magic of every season - both the slow majesty of autumn and winter, and the warmth and movement of spring and summer. I choose not to be dictated to by the day of the week, or the time of the day, or the designated Bank Holiday schedule, and instead follow what feels true and right for me, and where I wish to direct my energy.
…I will continue to honour my need for gentle and joyful creativity every day. Every weekday. On Saturdays. On Sundays. On my birthday. Even if it is just sitting quietly for twenty minutes and allowing what is in my head, to fall onto the page. It is not wrong for me to need this. It is not selfish. I feel a blossoming within me as I write these words.
…I long for more connection with others this year, but fear I will run out of energy, lose my sense of space, and feel overwhelmed if I step too far into it. I don’t know how to walk the tightrope between the amount of solitude I need to function, and the connection that nourishes me. I swing between the two like a beginner on a malfunctioning trapeze. I have no answer to this, only an awareness of it. That is enough for now. I will find the way forward in time.
…One contender for my word of the year is liberation. Whether it makes the final cut or not, I feel called to free myself again and again from (self-imposed) expectations. To let go of what doesn’t serve with gentleness and compassion. Perhaps one thing to let go of is the idea that there can be only one word for the year. Perhaps there can be two or three I can stir together in a cauldron…
…The most inspiring insights rarely appear when I am seeking them, but rather when I allow myself to feel whatever it is I feel. Today I feel stuck, and sitting with that, has helped me find some ease, peace and gentle movement.
And now for something new…
My journal is where my writing journey began, long before I dared share a word in public. As I continue my daily journaling practice I am always amazed by the ways it enriches life beyond the page.
This year I will be experimenting with offering prompts here if you have a similar habit, as well as an assortment of other creations by others: Poems, songs, books, films and more that have nourished and inspired me.
And so here is my first journaling prompt for you - to take to the page, or on a walk, or for a dance, or any other place you fancy taking it:
Without placing pressure on yourself to reach a concrete way forward:
What have you enjoyed or taken nourishment from this holiday season?
What haven’t you enjoyed?
What themes do you notice?
What might this mean for the choices you make next?
You could expand the first two questions to include a longer period of time, e.g. All of 2022, if this feels good and useful and timely for you.
If you are new to journaling, a stance I have found useful is to not think of it as writing, but a conversation with a wise, invisible friend I can say anything to. Who will never judge me. I tell her the truth, ask her questions, and write down the answers I hear.
If you have any questions about journaling, writing, creativity, integrating more of what brings you joy into your busy life, or anything related - from a point of view of “I wonder how Claire does/sees/approaches that?” - do reach out. In the comment thread, or reply to this email.
One emerging vision for Glitter and Biscuits, is that as well as sharing my own writing here, I begin to share some of the practical tools and insights (and less practical, mystical inspiration) I am discovering along the way. My hope is that this supports others on their own journeys of (creative) reclamation. My belief is that every human is inherently creative, it’s just that often we are educated/worked/parented/fill in the blank out of knowing we are, and the journey back is more fun in good company.
I’m excited about co-creating this new part of Glitter and Biscuits with you :)
An assortment of what else is inspiring me:
Kate Baer’s latest poetry collection, And Yet, and in particular this poem
This track by Lindsey Stirling from my morning playlist
This five-minute video
This round-up of the work done in 2022 by the team at ClientEarth
Feel free to reply by email, or comment in the thread on anything I have shared in this week’s missive. And do forward on to others who might enjoy Glitter and Biscuits. We are gradually growing in number, thanks to your generous sharing and support!
Thank you for being here.
With love,
Claire
Find me elsewhere:
Instagram: @clairemackinnonwrites
Website: clairemackinnon.com
LinkedIn: Claire Mackinnon
Thank you, Claire, for sharing! I'm not a whispering spirit, but it sounds like your word for 2023 is "expectant - having or showing an excited feeling that something is about to happen, especially something good". Hope that resonates...
Ah, and like a breath of fresh air to let the new year in ❤️