In my last post, I meditated on having an affair with creativity, inspired by a passage from Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic. (It’s such a great book to kick off the New Year. After first reading it in 2018, Big Magic is one of those books I always keep reaching for to renew my spirits.)
In my post, I shared I am not going to hold fast to specific resolutions on writing and creative production (and instead, let those relationships unfold). That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m not creating structure and resolution in other areas of my life.
I have so many hopes for this year. Some I’ll keep close to my heart for now. But there are others: to nurture my newfound and unexpected love of cooking and creating in the kitchen. To reconnect with the intuitive and witchy part of me that loves astrology, tarot, and ritual. To move my body in nature. To find new outlets for rest and recreation. To build my skills in conversation and interview.
I am so excited about all of these things, and want to make strategic moves towards realizing them all. But I am also terrified that this excitement and optimism will soon give way to drudgery.
New Year’s resolutions so often demand transformation and final mastery — that we cross a certain finish line and anything less is a shortfall of a failure. But what if we took the pressure off of knowing exactly how to go about our resolutions? What if we let go of those “smart, measurable” goals that define exactly what success looks like at the end of the year?
Instead, what if we saw New Year’s resolutions as our life curriculums for the year?
I’d rather see New Year’s resolutions as starting points of inquiry. And that all begins with being willing to learn and train in something different, if not entirely new. To humble and surround ourselves with the guidance and inspiration of those we admire. To become a curious student again. To let our chosen courses of study take us down paths we don’t yet have maps to.
So in my re-read of Big Magic this winter, I loved rediscovering this passage:
“Do you want to study under the great teachers? Is that it? Well, you can find them anywhere. They live on the shelves of your library; they live on the walls of museums; they live in recordings made decades ago. Your teachers don’t even need to be alive to educate you masterfully.”
Take your New Year’s goals. Create your own curriculum for 2023 and outline a syllabus for your journey that feels like a joy to pursue. Try not putting deadlines (again, no drudgery!). Here are some thought-starters:
Draft a reading list with books and publications that can help you learn more about the subjects of your goals.
As author and podcaster Jenny Blake teaches in Pivot: “scan” for people to connect with, skills to learn, and potential opportunities that move the needle towards your vision.
Brainstorm fun micro-assignments or projects you can do along the way.
Happy New Year, friends. I’m off to plan my own curriculum ;)