How to begin again (anytime)

For me, the New Year began—not when the ball dropped and the fireworks exploded—but around the beginning of December. I felt drawn to the messages of Advent more than ever before, and I asked myself:

What if I choose to slow down, reflect, and take a personal inventory now, instead of waiting until January, as I typically do? What if, instead, I transition slowly into 2021? What would happen if I entered the new year more centered and fully myself?

I’ve written before that there’s a great myth about January. There’s a lot of pageantry that comes with the magical flipping of the calendar page. When I bulldoze into January with the "New Year New Me!" mentality, I set sky-high goals and expectations, and it's a recipe for self-sabotage. Or, I’m disappointed when my entry into the new year feels like a crash-landing, or worse, like my flight was delayed and missed my chance.

2020 taught us how quickly things can change. That plans aren’t guaranteed. That we really don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I’ve also stumbled upon some realizations. In particular, that the time to start new can always be right now, right where I am. click to tweet

Here are some practical and heart-centered ways to begin again, anytime:

Consider the season. Over the summer, when I was feeling particularly creative, I would wake up at 5:30, drink my coffee in the quiet, and then when the sun rose at 6, I’d go out to my porch and write. When I told my friend Liz about my new routine and how awesome it felt, she told me that summertime is the time to grow. She went on to say that fall is the time to harvest, winter is the time to rest, and spring is the time to plant.

Take a look at the next three months, consider what season you’re in personally, and ask: how can I work with it, rather than push against? 

On that same note:

Pay attention to the light. I noticed that once summer faded into fall, my early morning writing routine faded along with it. The natural light was pulling me out of bed each morning. Rather than get discouraged when it became difficult to write in the dark, I simply adjusted my routine. Most of us aren’t farmers—the clock dictates our day, not the sun. But when establishing rhythms and routines, the sun (or lack of it) can be a guide.

Find your anchors. Once the initial shock of the global pandemic settled in and I began to move towards acceptance, I started doing a few key things at the same time each day. I borrowed this tip from my husband, who’s much more regimented. This practice, for me, was about stability and finding flow. I anchored down my day with my morning alarm, lighting a candle and having my first cup of coffee in silence, writing, and my workout.

My anchors have shifted with the seasons, and that’s a-okay. The key is picking a very small amount of things that happen at about the same time each day. One anchor is all you need.

Schedule time with yourself to reflect. Reflect on what’s working. What feels light? What feels heavy? You don’t have to solve all the problems and fix all the things. Sometimes just being aware is a good place to start. Becoming a neutral observer can help you see things more clearly. 

Consider how you want to feel. Healthy? Creative? More energetic? Less alone? More loved? Before looking outside for solutions, can you locate even a small spark of what you need that’s already within you? Connect with that spark. It will help you move forward. 

Interview yourself. Consider areas where you’re seeking answers, places you feel stuck. Ask yourself questions. How do you want to move forward? Set a timer and write it down. Trust what comes up. 

You don’t have to do everything all at once. I really struggle with this. Do one thing. How you pick that one thing is up to you. My suggestion is to go where the energy is. The next thing will reveal itself. 

These practices are more about cultivating self-awareness than crushing goals. When you establish a healthy relationship with yourself and move with the rhythms of your own authentic state of being, you can trust that where you in the swirly maze of life is right where you’re supposed to be. 

Are you ready to begin again? When it’s time, you’ll feel it and you’ll know. 

Angie

Angie Mizzell

I write about motherhood, writing, redefining success, and living a life that feels like home.

http://angiemizzell.com
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Find Your Anchors