Around 730 days ago, I was choosing my Word of the Year. A treasured practice I had observed for four or five odd years at that point; selecting a singular word to help illuminate and guide me through the coming twelve months. For 2020 I chose “Surrender”, which is so spot on it almost makes me laugh now. That lesson was coming for me, for all of us, whether we chose it or not. Two brutal pandemic years later, I don’t think any of us are the same. I know I feel profoundly different from the person I was two years ago. 

While there’s no straightforward end in sight to these uncertain times we’re living in, I’ve sensed an internal shift this winter. Have you felt it too? I’m still very much in crisis mode. Yet with the turn of this new year, I have found the gift of renewed perspective and more capacity to process the changes that have been happening, within and without. It’s always through reflecting, through looking back, that I find my way forward.

So with that, I invite you to join me in rewinding to January 2020 and the headspace I was in when I chose the word “Surrender”.

The previous year (2019) had been a really challenging one for me, personally and professionally. I started the year with a 6 month old baby, a newly minted book deal and a burgeoning interior design business. Growing all three at the same time took more capacity than I had available as a new work-from-home mom. By July of 2019, I found myself deeply burnt out. I am no stranger to depression or anxiety but this was a new low I hadn’t experienced before. My own matrescence mixed with some painful business lessons left my confidence bruised and me feeling so depleted.

Read my blog post: My Word of the Year for 2020

I knew I couldn’t keep going the way things were, but I also couldn’t bring myself to take the break I really needed. So instead, I got help - 1. I went back to therapy, 2. I got myself one full day per week to work alone from a coffee shop, and 3. I hired two part-time, remote employees. At first it seemed like I had fixed it, whatever was broken inside of me. And then the world erupted in March 2020...

I hobbled my business along until summer before it became clear that my fix was merely a bandaid. The help I had gathered was the bare minimum I needed to keep going through the motions. When all that help fell away, I was left with the realization that there was just very little joy or motivation for me in my career anymore. Which was a bit confusing and terrifying to admit. Because that felt like my fault too! I had chosen my field of study and the path of entrepreneurship. I built exactly the business I wanted to, so why then did it feel so bad?

Because the world was changing and I was changing, but I hadn’t truly slowed down enough to allow that change to take place.

I was like a panicked caterpillar trying to out wrestle the cocoon slowly forming around me. I didn’t yet realize that full surrender was not optional. I didn’t yet trust in the transformation that would result in allowing myself to be wholly enveloped by the unknown.

It was early fall and we were experiencing the relief of lower COVID cases in our area and plenty of opportunities for outdoor recreation. Still feeling uncertain about my career and the future, we decided to move forward with the only thing I was certain I wanted to do - which was have another child. We had delayed growing our family over concerns with the pandemic for long enough and we had some hope that things might be better by the spring. I quickly became pregnant with our second daughter and that was when my real unraveling began.

I definitely underestimated what it would be like being pregnant with a toddler, during what would turn out to be the darkest days of the pandemic. It was hard. I didn’t choose a new word when the calendar switched to 2021 because I was in full on survival mode. Feeling physically ill most days, I had to accept that the bare minimum was all I could muster and lean on my support system more than ever. The lesson of “surrender” was playing out in my life over and over again, yet a part of me was still resisting. 

Then came the most powerful lesson in surrender I’ve experienced so far, my daughter Sona’s birth in June 2021. I’ve written about this at length (Read my blog post: Sona’s Birth Story | Part One) but the short story is that her birth did not go as I had hoped it would. As someone who’s been doing inner work for years, I was pretty practiced at letting go of things that obviously no longer served me. But with Sona’s birth, I had to surrender in a way I never had before. I had to let go of things that were actually really important to me - perhaps even integral to who I thought I was after these years of reckoning. I didn’t want to. I went kicking and screaming. Hadn’t I already given up enough? But I was called to step fully into the fire and let it consume me. Once I did, letting go of all plans and pretense, the rest of labor and Sona’s birth unfolded in a smooth, beautiful and empowering way.

And now that I’ve stopped resisting, so has my own personal transformation. 

It wasn’t an immediate change. And I didn’t feel brave or resilient while it was happening, just so so vulnerable. Now, I’m not foolish enough to think that “Surrender” is done with me yet. In fact, it feels like I’m just now starting to understand…

I had been holding myself to standards and expectations that just weren’t important to me anymore. There was a time where certain goals were what I really wanted, but something inside me was changing and I didn’t recognize it right away. I just saw myself falling short and carried so much guilt and pain about not measuring up. 

Now I understand that my purpose, my worth, and my source of joy is so much deeper than that. I may not know exactly what I’m doing or where I’m going next, but that’s okay. Because even when I thought I did in the past, I didn’t. Not really. 

It’s human nature to want to be in control, to fight for self-preservation. But I can’t foresee the future and no amount of planning or strategy will let me outmaneuver discomfort and hardship. I can only surrender to the flow of life and stay open to change. Even change that feels like dying. All I can do is trust my intuition to guide me and know that after every death will come a rebirth, just as after every hard winter comes a glorious spring. 

Some journal prompts for your own winter reflections

Think back to where you were in the winter months of 2019-2020. If you keep a journal, look back at old entries and if you don’t, scroll back to look at old photos to help jog your memory. 

• Who was I in January 2020? What was I worried about? What was I struggling with? What was good in my life? What did I dream about? 

• What has fallen away for me during the pandemic? What has stayed the same? 

Now bring yourself to the present moment. Take a moment to pause and reflect on your current situation and life circumstances, and all that has happened for you in the past two years. And please, give yourself a big hug because I guarantee it’s been a lot. You are still standing and for that alone, you should be proud of yourself. 

• What am I worried about now? What am I struggling with? 

• What’s good in my life now?

• Where have I surrendered to the changes happening within me? Where am I still resisting?

Now allow yourself to consider the future. It may feel bleak and uncertain, but for a moment, visualize this year ahead as a blanket of freshly fallen snow. A clean, blank slate and a cooling balm for a world that has been on fire for two revolutions around the sun. 

• What am I dreaming about? 

• What would it look like to fully allow whatever transformation is brewing within me to occur

• What lesson can I carry with me into this new year?

• How do I want to show up for myself in the midst of continued uncertainty?