Token 2020 Reflections
So, 2020, huh?
I was thinking about writing a post today and wondering how I could capture the essence of the last year and realized that I probably couldn’t do it justice. Or, rather, that others would do so more eloquently than I could.
But here I am, less because 2020 was so…2020… and more because I always get reflective at the end of the year. Usually something along the lines of what am I doing with my life? Or, more specifically, is what I’m doing with my life what I’m supposed to be doing with my life?
On this day last year, for example, I was having one of my episodes of hand wringing over the prospect of being Charlotte. Which is a little comical, really, since this week’s session with my therapist followed a similar theme. But I digress.
Reflection at the end of 2020 is a unique creature. I don’t think most of us did what we thought or hoped we might. It was, in a lot of ways, a year of not doing all the things. And even without losing anyone close to me, I had my share of sadness and anxiety, canceled plans, and bouts of feeling profoundly isolated.
Yet I had moments of pure joy, too. Deep connection with (albeit a very tiny number of) others. A keen appreciation for my home and nature that I wouldn’t have experienced in the hustle and bustle of commuting and hours at my office. And that says nothing of how much dog time there was.
2020 can’t be all bad because it brought Mabel!
Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is that even though I’m still not certain I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing with my life, 2020 taught me some lessons. Lessons I’m not sure I would have learned otherwise. Just like that age-old dread of being Charlotte. Sometimes you have to muck through to come out the other side.
Just make sure you’re heading to the side you want to be on.
If 2020 kicked your ass, I’m sending you love and a great big hug. If it revealed some truths you needed, cheers. And if, like me, it nudged you right out of fitting into half your clothes, let’s promise to eat a few more veggies and dance a lot in the coming weeks. Whatever the case, remember we’re all the Elizabeth Bennets–aka the leading ladies–of our own lives.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go open a bottle of wine and watch Pride and Prejudice for the billionth or so time.
