As much as I love hearing and reading about other people’s New Year’s resolutions, this year I’ve felt inclined to not set myself a range of goals to achieve. Expectations, a lot of unnecessary pressure, blah blah. So I haven’t. Instead, I’m doing something a little bit different.
2017, for me, will be focused around and structured towards a single ideal: that is, I want to reclaim the life I’m so eager to live. I want to reclaim what’s mine.
As you’re probably aware, the past couple of years haven’t been the most fruitful for me in terms of my own personal development. If I had to summarise my 2015 in a single word, that word would perhaps be ‘cancer’. ‘Death’, maybe. ‘Loss‘, overall, because in the process of losing my Dad I lost my ambition, my drive and the student lifestyle I loved so much. I lost my mind a bit.
2016 wasn’t much better. It was almost a consolation that 2016 seemed to carry a curse – with iconic celebrities calling it quits on the world, global and national politics taking a bizarre and frightening turn and terrorist attacks becoming too commonplace to be truly shocking – because the year’s events made my grief and mental health nosedive feel perfectly in moderation with the rest of the world. A bit of a safety blanket, you could say. My word of 2016 was definitely ‘adjustment‘, with plenty of first birthdays and anniversaries without Dad confronting us in a moody blue haze. Each brought with it a unique challenge, a family conflict, a feeling of emptiness. 2016 was a year of ‘helplessness‘.
Therefore, I’m designating a word to 2017 before it’s even really begun, and that word is ‘reclamation‘. I’m setting out to take back what the world has stripped me of, and I’m going to give it my best shot.
As nice as the optimistic promises of ‘eat less exercise more’, ‘8 hours’ sleep a night’ or ‘drink 2 litres of water per day’ seem on the surface, they’re not going to cut it for me in 2017.
Until next time,