The premonition of omission

Feeling it Friday #3 - December edition

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As I look ahead to the new year, I feel different than in years past. I am not being pulled to create a vision board or marinate in new goals. All the revolving resolving that I would cycle in and out of every January feels so wrong on me right now. Something in me is saying, trust this. Don’t force it away.

I feel pretty sure about one thing. I don't need more outside information. I don't need any more experts to tell me how to further develop myself. I need to inhabit myself.

2024 was a year I reflexively reached outside myself in an attempt to find myself. I was crowd searching and outsourcing for wisdom, rather than waiting for it from within. And it feels like I came up short. While streaming this podcast or reading so-and-so’s book - the promises to personally develop me - neither enveloped me.

So, this year, I think I know what I need to do. I need to stay. I want this to be a year where I pull from within rather than seek from outside myself.

Words matter to me. They are important. I think most writers feel this way.

A friend of mine recently shared that she asked her young child, “what does it mean to love someone?” The child took a moment to reflect and then said, “When you love someone you want them to stay.”

I can’t stop thinking about this.

When you love someone, you want them to stay.

I can’t stop thinking how often I leave myself. How often I won’t stay. I won’t sit and be still with me. My racing mind, thoughts, fears, premonitions pull me up and push my body and psyche to follow someone else’s path. I pursue busy instead of rest. For some reason, that path looks more trusting. Safer. Why?

Is this me continually abandoning myself? Is this me not loving myself?

All of this was swirling around my mind and sitting on my bones when I read this piece from

Elena Brower

on what we don't do.

In it, Elena reflects on the gratitude her young adult son recently expressed to her over the things she didn’t do and doesn’t do as a parent. As a human.

Elena writes:

It’s like a watercolor painting. In the negative spaces—what we don’t say—he becomes himself.

I keep returning to this idea. This idea of how what we don’t do or what we don’t say to others and to ourselves can help return our gaze inward. Which can only lead to authenticity. Autonomy. The very thing(s) we want for our kids. For ourselves.

With this in mind, I decide I will pick a word of the year. It will be stay.

And I will also remove some words this year. Words I won’t say that may help me move closer to who I am meant to be.

Omissions that may lead to permission. Permission to be me.

I’m removing the word budget. I never liked it. It always felt restrictive, and I think it actually made me less likely to engage with my finances. It’s like the word diet. Diet and budget. I’m removing both from my vocabulary. I believe I can be more intentional with what I eat and where I place my money without coating both with restrictive language.

Here is my 2025 omissions and permissions list:

Less expectation, more inhalation

Less crowdsourcing, more solace for the soul

Less profiting others, more feeling prophetic

Less experts, more cleansing my own lens

Less reacting, more reflecting

Less promptness, more promise

Less notifications, more noticing

Less scrolling, more strolling

Less rehashing, more releasing

Less picking at a worry, more peeking at wonder

Permission to collapse so that I don’t relapse.

Less urgency, more agency

A turning the dial down on attention economy to let there be dichotomy.

Release the veneer of diligence. Downshift into idleness.

Play with words and watch the birds.

Hold paradox so that we aren’t put into a box.

Soften into shadowboxing. Trust light will soon come knocking.

Less virtual rooms with influencers. More sitting in the room with myself. Shut the door. A solo livestream. Hang the no vacancy sign. A room for one.

Cut the chord with cortisol.

Less lack on the back of all my prayers and concerns, more abundance of mind.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

I intend on celebrating myself this time next year. For all the days I stay still. For all the days I stay with what needs to find me.

Something like this:

(****Thank you

Josefina H. Sanders

****)

I can’t write about my feelings from this past week without mentioning this piece - a beautiful essay On finding meaning amongst the special melancholy and abundance of Christmas from

Clover Stroud

. It met me right where I was - holding both melancholy and joy for the season.

Especially poignant was Clover’s reminder that what matters is presence, not presents. This rings truer and truer with each year that passes.

I relished in this sentiment after hearing my son say, “Mom, I’m more excited to give my gifts this year than get them.”

My son and the dogs - resting in the sun’s glowing orb. Presence, not presents

And I spent a moment letting this memory sit and sting. Because with the sting comes sweet remembrance. Pressing play to hear his voice felt like a warm Christmas hug.

ICYMI:

A follow up to last week’s Solstice stance: Making Peace with the Dark where I mentioned a new tradition I was bringing into December:

So, this weekend, amidst beating the clock for last minute holiday tasks, I will set aside some time to introduce a new kind of tradition tied to winter solstice and this season of December. We will hang wishing stars on our Christmas tree. Another nod to the Druids. The practice is to write three wishes on paper stars, one for yourself, one for your loved ones and one for the planet.

May we let our own stars guide the way. May our stars comfort us in the dark night.

Top row: my stars for self, loved ones and planet. Bottom row: my daughter's stars for herself, loved ones, planet.

And an extra one because she sweetly said, “Mom, I will make a star for the future, too. For all the years to come.”

Yes, baby girl. Yes.

Our kids notice.

HOUSEKEEPING AND SHOUT OUTS:

A HUGE EXTRA dose of gratitude and heartfelt thanks to Jennifer Bridgman of

The Mess + The Magic

for upgrading your subscription this past week. Please know how touched I am by this kind of support; truly. My writerly heart is beaming with appreciation.

I will be returning to Zoom gatherings for paid subscribers in January. Keep an eye out on the chat feature for some potential dates. I want to find a time that works for most. We will join for an hour of creative connection. I will offer a reading with a related topic to serve as a springboard for collaboration and conversation. A place to collaborate on all we dare to be. Individually and collectively.

YOUR TURN -DROP YOUR WORDS AND FEELINGS:

~Will you pick a word for 2025? Are there any words that you feel called to remove this year?

~What will you release in 2025? What will you pick up?

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