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Dear Readers,
Welcome to 2015! Can you believe it? Once again, we find ourselves at the helm of a new year, a year rife with possibility and opportunity, and we are determined to take advantage of this arbitrary clean slate after the hot-toddy-filled haze of the holidays. For many of us, January is a time of reflection and renewal. For me, it's usually a time to cleverly re-word the resolutions of years past so that they don't sound exactly the same as they did the previous January (e.g., "lose 10 pounds" becomes "wear non-spandex pants at least twice a week"). Often, goal-posts are moved in an effort to make the newer iterations of these resolutions seem more realistically achievable (e.g., "go to the gym every day" becomes "just go to the gym more often" becomes "at least stop wasting your money on Insanity workout DVDs if you're never going to use them. Also return that shake-weight you bought, and stop watching infomercials at 2 AM. GET A BOYFRIEND!!"). You get the picture.
However, this year I'm feeling a bit different. 2014 was quite a ride, and I'm no longer the same person I was when I made last year's resolutions. It's been at least that long since I had the privilege of talking to you all, so let's indulge in the reflective ritual for a moment, shall we?
When our story last left off, I had taken a leave of absence from my job as a  management consultant determined to instead become a writer, I had moved from a 5th floor walk-up in New York City to a beach town in New Hampshire, and I had opted to make my health a priority for the first time in my life. Through simple changes to diet and exercise, I had finally gotten into the shape I wanted (if you need a refresher on those tips, click here), and my overall life-stoke was high. I was comfortable in my skin, comfortable in my decidedly inelastic pants (hallelujah), and ready to takeover the world. Bolstered by a new-found self-confidence and a sense of wanderlust, I turned that leave-of-absence into an official resignation and adopted something of a "leap-and-the-net-will-appear" attitude towards my life.
The good news: the lifestyle changes I made were simple and small enough to maintain long-term, and I still feel great in my own skin. The even better news: feeling that way about myself allowed me to open up to new experiences and new people in an incredible way, with an unreservedness and a fearlessness that I had never before found in myself. It was a liberating and restorative and beautiful year.
Now, the inevitable dropping of the other shoe - the bad news: it turns out that even when you are happiest and most alive, even when life is at its most thrilling, it's not necessarily an exercise in indefinitely smooth sailing.
I leapt, I fell, and something of a net appeared (hint: he was a very good looking net. Let's go ahead and cue the collective eye-roll in 3, 2, 1...). Needless to say, the relationship ended badly. As my family, friends, and a non-zero number of strangers can tell you, I considered it to be a
UNIQUELY DEVESTATING EVENT in the HISTORY of the WORLD
In that way I'm sure it was much like all heartbreaks, everywhere, always. However, I realize the key demographic for this blog isn't a bunch of hopeless romantics in quarter-life crisis like myself.
To that end, let me offer a quick reassurance: this blog isn't about a break-up, or even about endings more broadly. Nor is it wholly about new beginnings. I think maybe it's about taking a beat to grapple with and appreciate the connectedness between the two: it's about relishing the blank space between chapters in a novel, for the way it simultaneously provides closure for what precedes while accelerating our movement toward what's ahead. January reflections are our chapter break. This blog is about taking a second to articulate the hopes I have for all of us as we reflect on a year that may have had some disappointments - a missed promotion, a missed connection, an illness, a divorce, a child who moves away, a child who moves back in1 - and finding a way to be thankful for that year nonetheless. Finding a way to close one chapter of your life with dignity and gratitude, and then harnessing the power of unmet expectations to fuel positive change in the year ahead.
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1 My mother asked me to add this one. A discussion question, for the blogger-book clubs out there: what inferences is Katie to make about her mother's suggested edit? Should she take offense? Why or why not?
A favorite author of mine says the following of short stories: "A good [short story] will take me out of myself and then stuff me back in, outsized, now, and uneasy with the fit." I love this thought, and I think it to be true of most worthwhile life experiences - they sweep us up beyond our previously known limits, rattle us, and sometimes shove us back down to earth in a rather violent, jarring fashion. After such an experience, we settle into a new equilibrium - we are changed, unable to slip easily back into the life we had before. But changed for the better, more often than not. We are wiser, more capable. This discomfort is a symptom of growth. Failure is an agent for change, for movement, for development. My wish for all of us this January is that we find time to recognize and celebrate it as such.
The search for silver linings is not a novel notion, so consider this blog just a gentle reminder - a supportive nudge in a sometimes tough direction. I said earlier that I wanted this newsletter to be about grappling with that connection between endings and beginnings, between failure and growth, because - for as many times as we've been told to celebrate our failures - it's still really, really hard to do so. I certainly haven't mastered it yet. However, there are three thoughts I've encountered recently that I find helpful, and that I'd like to share. Something of a three-step program, if you will, for building off the experiences of the past to make the most of the year ahead (and yes, let's all just agree to forget that we've probably seen some version of these on a poster in the copy room or on our Starbucks coffee sleeve):
* "You will find that it is necessary to let things go, simply for the reason that they are heavy." Release is essential to moving forward, and finding meaning in past disappointments doesn't have to mean remembering every single aspect of them. Re-living a gut-wrenching experience over and over again is completely unproductive, just as holding a grudge tends to hurt you far more than it hurts others. Forgive and forget as much as you need to move forward. Selective memory can be a powerful tool - try to strip away the unproductive until you can celebrate what's left.
* "Maybe when there is clarity of air, there is clarity of purpose." Once you've stopped spinning your wheels with would-have/could-have/should-have's, you can spend your mental energy toward more productive pursuits. Let the dust settle and the air clear, then use that mental clarity to think seriously about what you want moving forward. Pay attention to what makes you happy, and find time to honestly articulate your hopes for yourself. If you're not as happy as you want to be now, then what would that happiness look like? Specifically. You have to know where you want to be before you can move in the right direction.
* "Don't carry a wishbone where your backbone should be." While setting goals is important, the act of setting them isn't enough. You have to define a path that will get you where you want to go. You have to actively pursue that path, and hold yourself accountable for each step along the way. You have to choose to want something else and reaffirm that choice every day with your actions. This movement will no doubt force yourself outside your comfort zone - you have to be willing to keep at it anyway, to work hard, and to perhaps fail again. When that happens, rinse and repeat.
These reminders - to release, to set direction, to hold yourself accountable - they aren't a perfect solution for making the most of the year ahead, but they help. They've certainly helped me to find my way again after the abrupt and unexpected ending I encountered in 2014. Whatever else I may think about it, that relationship was a catalyst that changed the direction of my life for the better. It introduced me to a group of people that have since become incredible friends - people I love and admire that provide constant inspiration and perspective on how to live a more fulfilling life. It also gave me the courage to break away from a lifestyle I hated, and for that I will always be grateful.
 I won't promise to have a good idea (or even any idea) of where this new path will take me, but I feel like I'm finally waking up in the morning and putting my energy in the right place. I'm writing every day, working on a new TV pilot that excites me, as well as working on a few other projects. I'm shuttling back and forth between NYC and New Hampshire to take an improv class (oh god) as a HORRIBLY UNCOMFORTABLE exercise in pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I'm making a point to meet with people who do what I want to do, to learn from them and their experiences. I'm setting weekly goals for myself, and I have put people in place to help me stay accountable for those aspirations.
Most incredibly, I'M HAPPY. I feel like that life I had foolishly been waiting for is finally starting, that I've finally rolled up my proverbial sleeves and allowed it to BEGIN. That version of me that is fulfilled in her own right and not reliant on other people for purpose or direction, that girl seems within reach. And THAT is a miracle I wish for all of you in 2015.
So as the New Year unfolds, I hope you forgive yourself and others for the shortcomings of the past year. I hope you carry the best memories of 2014 with you and learn from the rest.
I hope you dedicate real time to the discovery of a new, reinvigorated sense of purpose, and that you identify tangible steps to take in the pursuit of that fulfillment. I hope that you actively pay attention to what brings you joy, that you find more peace and gratitude in the amazing life that you've built for yourself, but that you never settle for less happiness than you deserve.
I hope you hold yourself accountable for that happiness, and that you understand that the promises you make to yourself are just as important to keep as those you make to others.
I hope that you always have the conviction to make changes that are hard, and the support you need to make them.
Finally, I hope you have the self-confidence to leap with faith in nets as-yet-unseen, as well as the self-direction to navigate that free-fall with clarity and composure. And whatever concrete form your resolutions take this year, I hope that next January, when you pull them out to reflect and once again try them on for size, you find yourself "outsized, and uneasy with the fit." (Emotionally, of course. Physically, I hope we all lose 10 pounds.)
Have the happiest of happy New Years, and a productive 2015 -
Katie
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