Three weeks into the year, I have fallen back into the lull of my auto-pilot. Falling asleep with my mouth agape as I waded through my frequent commutes, producing one “urgent” output after another and then ending the day by scrolling through videos mindlessly before going to sleep - this was the life I wanted to beautify, to give meaning to. But I began to lose myself to the grind once again and with that, I felt my New Year’s resolutions slowly dissolve into wishful thinking, my resolve fading.
This was just the beginning, but oddly enough, it already feels like the beginning of an ending.
ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ɴɢᴏɴɢ ᴘɪɴ 360 ᴄᴀʙʟᴇ ᴄᴀʀ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ
I want to live a beautiful life, beautiful in a sense that comfort, slowness and stillness are available to me. I don’t want to be dictated by time anymore, or at the very least, I want to have the courage to pace it, to come up for air, to pause and not rush anything.
I want to live a beautiful life, one that allows me to do meaningful things. I want to create things that move oceans inside people and wash over them when they awake. I want to create things that flow beyond the intentions I can comprehend, beyond me and my pain, beyond me and the four walls of my brain. And even if it takes me painstaking effort to birth my creations, I want to try anyway, because all the effort it will take will only reflect back onto its meaningfulness.
I want to live a beautiful life, one that is a balance of joy and stability. I acknowledge that my standard for beauty can never be nonchalant luxury although I also crave for pretty, shiny experiences. In a balanced beautiful life, I could treat myself with sprinkles of indulgence but also comfort myself in knowing that I did not break the bank. Aside from that, I want to commit myself to improving my daily life so that the difference between new adventures and my mundane would not be that stark.
I want to live a beautiful life, a life where I am proud of myself, where I show up to the world as the truest version of me. I want to embrace that I am beautiful, my body a blessed temple of goodness, kindness and good health, my mind a universe overflowing with energy for learning, creating and imagining. I will take up space and claim my birthright of abundance and love.
I want to live a beautiful life, with the people who make it beautiful. On the road to more secure relationships, I want to open myself up to opportunities for meaningful connections. I want to live in the presence and support of loving communities and relish in the mystery of what it means to be human, of what it means to show up day by day.
This is the life I wanted to start by 2024… Finally, the most beautiful moment of my life - I wanted to realize it.
To make my goals come true, I did everything I could do to align myself with this new purpose. I created a vision board. I answered reflection questions. I talked to my sister. I made a detailed plan for how I could translate my vision to all aspects of my life - work, finances, self-care and passion projects.
During the first week, I kept checking in on myself if I was able to have “beautiful moments” within the day, even just for a couple of minutes, and if I was still staying true to my resolutions. Although I didn’t make any drastic changes to my routine, my change in mindset helped me be more mindful of things I was grateful for and principles I was able to uphold.
But then, the second and third weeks rolled in and suddenly, instead of fireworks in the background, I became busy putting out fires. There were things that had to be done and I had to be the one to do them. There were things I wanted to happen that weren’t happening.
As I reverted back to survival mode, after washing away the holiday and new year glee, I was often left with little time for myself and little energy to do anything else. I promised myself that I was going to spend more time and effort on meaningful things, that I was going to allot time for peace and reflection but I just couldn’t follow through. After giving myself to the responsibilities I had to fulfill, I had nothing left to give.
Because of that, I saw that my life, the reality of how I spend most of my days, left little room for change, for beauty. There was a sense of stuckness in fulfilling the things I had to do and in the humbling realization that I did not hold my time. With that, a familiar soul-sucking sensation came back to me, and I felt my visions of a beautiful life slowly fade away. A little seed of doubt whined in my head, “Maybe you can’t do this. Maybe it will be too hard to change.”
ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴏᴄᴀ ᴠɪꜱɪᴛ ɪɴ ʙᴀɴɢᴋᴏᴋ
Like all kinds of cracks, the breaking was bound to show. In my case, I was trying not to show that my weakened resolve saddened me. I was trying to act like it didn’t matter that I wasn’t being faithful or at least trying to be faithful to my resolutions. But of course, with the persistent tapping in my brain, I eventually exploded.
Unfortunately, the people closest to us are also the most likely victims of our explosions. This meant that my younger sister became both the witness and casualty of my outbursts. I was irritable and snappy. I became very possessive of my free time and I harbored strict plans to make up for what I felt like I was losing. As a result, I acted out and blurted out spikey words molded from my anxiety and helplessness.
Thankfully, my sister and I were soldiers that knew how to talk. We talked about the conflict that arose and the honest reasons that created the conflict in the first place. I admitted to her that I was protective of my time because I felt like I didn’t have any. I admitted that I was disheartened, seeing that my resolutions were becoming less and less achievable. Finally, I admitted that I had lost my way, that aside from feeling hopeless, I didn’t feel anything because I’ve been so disconnected with my emotions and thoughts.
As we continued our conversation, my sister also sharing her own truths and finding her words, I came to realize what I needed all along. I needed introspection and the quiet, and if the world was too busy honking for it to provide me some, I will make a wedge in the day to demand it. My theory was this - if I had some time to myself, I would understand what I was going through and I would be more attuned to my feelings. I could then reevaluate the standards with which I used to set the year. I could ask myself, “Despite all the curveballs thrown at the start of the year, what are the things that remained constant and true? Despite all the things that didn’t happen, things I couldn’t do, what still mattered to me?”
One night, an evening after work that I usually spent recovering, I decided that instead of soap and slime videos, I was going to do some thinking. I opened my vision board and the other tabs that contained tables and lists of plans I planned for the year. Looking them over, I gave myself grace and rearranged them based on what I’ve learned from the previous weeks, anchoring them on the values I still wished to pursue. I also asked myself, “If my life was currently more hectic than what I wanted it to be, how do I give myself pockets of air to pursue the things I deem meaningful and how do I grant myself more flexibility? Perhaps I should recalibrate my expectations?”
These questions eased the burnout and showed me the guiding light I needed.
Truth was, my life didn’t change just because it was the new year. Things didn’t suddenly get better just because I decided on resolutions. But it was also true that I wanted change and change, any kind of change, was always bound to be uncomfortable and challenging. And in that process of growth and shedding, I needed to not lose myself in the struggle. I needed silence for my thoughts. I needed compassion and grace to be more adaptable. I needed to not be so hard on myself.
Tonight, it’s already been two months well into the year and unlike my state the past week, I am recharged with new energy. I’ve been making small but meaningful changes in my routine. I’ve been challenging my beliefs and even my resolutions. I am making time for things that matter to me and I’m not waiting around for all the fires to be put out before I spend time on things that actually fulfill me. Of course, this shift hasn’t been easy but at least with these new changes, I finally feel like 2024 is upon me.
Pauline is a digital marketer and occasional speaker for Creative Writing. Outside work, she pursues passion projects such as writing essays, poems, and short stories, composing songs and filming videos.
As a storyteller on multiple platforms, Pauline has also attempted to create multimedia content through her YouTube channel (pollenpiggy) and a podcast she hosts (“When Pigs Fly”). You can find her at @pollenpiggycreates or at [email protected].
