A season of ‘aha’
I always look forward to the first of the year and the promise it brings. January boasts of a fresh start – a season of renewal. A clean slate and a new perspective that comes with the rolling over of that first calendar page. It’s as if we collectively look in the mirror and decide to be the best version of ourselves in the new year.
Like so many, I was ready to usher in 2015. Last year hadn’t been my best. My heart was left weary from a series of major losses, unexplainable tragedy and all the adjustments those life-altering moments carry in tow. I thought, if we can just make it to January, then things will get better.
Then January arrived. The year started quickly, bringing along a furious list of to-dos and tasks, places to go and obligations to meet. From preschool open houses to potty training, big girl beds and the need for a Paci Fairy visit, and not the least of these, my 4-month-old’s weeklong bout with RSV.
Feelings of anxiety weren’t just accompanying the transitional moments we were facing, they came along with the day-to-day house chores and grocery lists. Feeling like my hours were being swallowed up in the mundane tasks of daily life.
Just two weeks into my bright, shiny new year and that same, familiar feeling from 2014 began to creep in.
At the church my family and I attend, this time of year is considered the season of Epiphany. It’s the time of “aha” moments, when the lightbulb comes on for many of us as we’re more open minded to the things that need to change in us.
As our pastor puts it, Epiphany tends to be an afterthought – lost in the clutter and residue of the Christmas season – when in fact, it is a pivotal time where we decide where we go from here.
This thought was my “aha.” The moment I realized my year was already on track to be much like my last, and that was the decision I was subconsciously making.
If I had learned anything from 2014, it was that even in the midst of an otherwise dark place, there is always light. In a time of great loss, we also welcomed the birth of our son, Grady. And knowing Grady’s sweet, easygoing nature, there is no doubt he was intended to come into this world in the midst of our most difficult year.
I also learned that to live in the light, to know and see the next step ahead, means not allowing yourself to be swallowed in the darkness. For me, that has meant quieting the noise of the world around me. A lesson that certainly didn’t come easily or with my full cooperation.
Christmas morning, I woke up and did what I always do first thing in the morning, before my feet even hit the floor – I reached for my iPhone. Instead of the home screen I was expecting, my phone was in recovery mode, or as my husband said, my phone was “dead dead.”
Of all days to lose your phone, I thought, with anxiety mounting over what I must be missing. The next day, I spent trying everything to fix my phone to no avail, which meant my company-provided iPhone would not be replaced until nearly a week later due to the holidays.
The first few days I was anxious and annoyed, but then I began to enjoy the quiet that came with being unplugged. It was good for me to take a step back and focus on my immediate family. I’d like to say I learned the value of quiet in those few days, but old habits die hard and within days of receiving my new phone, I was back to where I started. Unable to move from one room in my house to another without my phone in hand.
The anxiety of my day-to-day life returned with my need to check my phone constantly for emails, texts, Facebook posts and Instragram pictures. It was a screaming revelation: Quiet the noise.
Just as quickly as January arrived in all its newness and possibility, I had allowed that light and possibility to be drown out by the noise of the fastpaced world around me.
It’s funny to think that as we count down to Jan. 1 each year, we behave as if the new calendar year holds some magical powers, when in reality, the magic, the possibility and the “ahas” are in us all along. We just have to be quiet enough to hear them.
