2017: The Year of Exploration

Photo (C) Larisa Koshkina/PublicDomainPhotos.net

I’ve started the last several years with a “theme”, some grand concept that I hoped would guide me in growth and new adventures. 2014 was the Year of Yes, which worked out well for me.  2015 was the Year of Bountiful Possibilities. Unfortunately I forgot that not all possibilities were good. (I know that the bad things would have happened anyway, but the ironic contrast to my hopes made the darker times even more challenging.) 2016 became the Year of Joy and Rebuilding. I’ll still have to do a recap of my year and how well that theme worked for me.

Short version: there seems to be a consensus that 2016 sucked and in many big-picture ways that’s true. 2016 featured major, career-affecting shakeups in the publishing industry; the deaths of many beloved public figures including personal heroes David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, and Carrie Fisher; and a presidential election that led my 83-year-old mother to mutter things about having lived through Nazis and McCarthyism once already.(She didn’t actually say, “I’m too old for this shit–AGAIN” but it was implied.) But due to some wise moves on my part–including a consistent yoga practice and finally admitting it was a good idea to try therapy and antidepressants in the same way it was just plain sensible to get treatment for my asthma–I was able to find joy again in my own little corner of the world.

Taken at Kripalu in February 2016. I started finding joy again on that retreat. And I’m going back in two weeks.

I debated with myself about what phrase would sum up my hopes for 2017. I’ve been feeling hobbitish lately, living in a very cozy, pleasant rut. Without losing the delightful aspects of hobbiting, I’d like to shake up my routine–learn and try new things, play more, step out of my comfort zone in fun ways. Some the things I have in mind are simple, everyday adventures I just haven’t taken the time to enjoy: visiting Sturbridge Village; hiking in a new-to-me state park; getting up stupid early to beat traffic and be at the beach for sunrise, so I can spend a few hours at the ocean before beginning my workday. Some are bigger: getting over my fear of driving into Boston (I can manage Providence, and have no problem with ridiculously long highway drives, but Boston daunts me); auditing an online course in a subject that intrigues me, such as archeology or astronomy; reviewing the smattering of German I learned in college; experimenting with new genres; learning new software for self-publishing instead of continuing to kluge conversions from Word documents, which doesn’t always work gracefully. I’d also like to examine my habits and patterns, especially where writing and gardening are concerned, and figure out if they’re necessarily the best way to do things. And if I could actually invite adventure into my life (without encountering Smaug, to continue the hobbit analogy), that would be grand.

I bounced these ideas off my husband. The Year of New? The Year of Yes Part 2, since I’d once more focus on saying yes to life even when it scared me a little? The Year of Renewal, accent on new? The Year of Pushing Boundaries? None of these seemed quite right.

Himself suggested The Year of Exploration.

Photo credit: George Hodan/PublicDomainPictures.net

I rolled it on my tongue a few times and decided I liked the sound of it. It covered both the playful side of what I hope to bring into this coming year and the more serious examining-processes aspect. It conjures up images of ancient maps and messages in forgotten languages. Explorers are allowed to be afraid, because unknown places can be scary–can be legitimately dangerous–but they keep moving. Explorers learn. Explorers grow. Explorers may get lost, but that’s often when they find the interesting thing they didn’t know they sought. And explorers don’t settle for engrained, familiar habits; they always ask what’s next.

It’s 2017. Welcome to my Year of Exploration. Wish me luck on my journey. Share maps if you have any; they might not take me where I want to go, but I’m open to checking them out.

Here’s hoping I find plenty of “treasures” in terms of experience, ideas, and self-knowledge–and no dragons!