I’ve been thinking of writing a list of things that happened in my life for the first time in 2023.
The thought has been lingering for quite some days. But I haven’t been able to sit down and write any list.
Why?
Because every time I begin to replay 2023 in my head to pick all the firsts, I can’t help but find myself getting stuck at what all I lost.
And I’m left with one thought — 2023 took more than it gave.
To make it sound less depressing, I reframe it to — What 2023 gave appears less in front of what it took away.
Sigh…
A part of me wants to force myself to begin that list of firsts so that I can focus on gratitude. But then I find myself scoffing at the whole idea.
Evidently, I’m resentful…towards life.
My emotional management practices tell me to sit with this resentment, instead of shooing it away.
So that’s what I’ve been doing.
I’m resentment-ing. I’m grief-ing. I’m anger-ing.
All I’m aware of is the space that I’m creating to let my resentment, anger, grief and disappointment exist.
I’ve reasons to push myself towards positivity — “Look at the brighter side, Ashi. Are you sure those losses were losses only? What if you gained by losing?”
It’s an enticing idea, honestly. And it has potential.
So my mind starts putting its resources to use; picking a loss and posing questions to me:
What did you get saved from by this loss?
Why did you not give up and keep going on?
How did this loss lead you to unpredicted opportunities?
Etc.
These questions do make me think. They make me curious. They make me hopeful.
Then I wonder — Why this rush to feel better, hopeful and excited?
Why to abandon my grief and resentment which keep revealing themselves in layers?
And then, THE mantra of emotional management strikes me.
I don’t have to choose one. I can do both. For both can be true.
I can attend to my grief AND I can be hopeful by the lessons that grief taught me.
I can sit with my disappointment AND I can get curious by the ways it has moved me.
I can listen to my resentment AND I can be excited by the realizations it showered on me.
I don’t have to side with one. I can create space for contradiction. I can let my feelings co-exist.
Because I can celebrate ANDness.
Guess what?
As I dive into this ANDness, I find myself reframing the meaning of 2023.
2023 – The year of loss
2023 – The year of ANDness
Yeah, this fits better.
It succinctly explains all that 2023 has been for me.
Now I’m wondering — Maybe I’ll write that list of firsts of 2023? Let’s see.
Alright.
So we arrive at the end of 2023’s last HeyEmotions edition.
We began this year with the 30th edition. We’re ending it now with the 81st edition.
(By the way, I just checked. The 30th edition was all about honoring pain. Serendipity much? Haha.)
Anyways, 52 editions for 52 weeks of 2023.
We did good. I wrote them all. You read them all.
Yayyy to us. Pat your back like how I did just now 😁
Going ahead, I’ve a few new offerings in making for you. Stay tuned.
Sink in the last few days of 2023. So that you can be in touch with yourself.
And then welcome 2024 the way you want to welcome it, not how you’re supposed to welcome it.
Happy New Year.
AND well…
Happy Old Year, too.
After all, what’s new without old?
🦋
I’ll see you on the first Thursday of 2024,
Ashi
(This is me on LinkedIn. Say hi)
I loved your perspective on ANDness - this is something I also realised it this year and you have summed it so beautifully.
Keep it up, Ashi