As we head into 2023, I’ve been spending a bit of time reflecting on the year we are leaving behind and thinking about my intentions for the new year ahead. 2022 was an interesting year. Professionally, I had some meaningful milestones:
-I continued working on projects for two longtime dream clients.
-I started this Substack newsletter, Plant Magic, which has continued to grow and help me share my love for all things holistic wellness, healing, plant based cooking and the natural world.
-I recorded several podcasts, one of which ended up being the #1 most listened to episode of the year (on an already mega-popular podcast), a truly exciting and humbling experience.
-I started working as a consultant for Beautycounter, a clean beauty brand and certified B-Corp that I’m proud that align myself with.
Personally, the year was a bit more mixed. Things with my family and home life have been great – we took some great trips, made wonderful memories, stayed in good health and generally just had a lot of gratitude for the world returning to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, emotionally, it’s been a little bit of a different story.
I’ve always been the type of person to wear my heart on my sleeve, and generally, I don’t shy away from vulnerability. That being said, it’s tough for me to talk about mental health issues here because it feels not only super private, but a little self indulgent. I’m opening up a little today knowing that there are others who are silently struggle, and to remember that you’re not alone.
I’ve always had a good amount of difficulty with the passage of time and life transitions. Without getting into specifics, this struggle feels acute lately, and, at times, debilitating. Not only do I worry about the unwritten future, I feel intense pressure to make these days “count”. I don’t know if it was COVID, or turning 40, my cancer journey, or all of the above, but my sensitivity to the fragility of life and the dizzyingly fast passage of time feels like an exposed nerve.
Ruminating about the past and fearing the future are things that are, quite literally, stealing my joy. In true Buddhist nature, I remind myself that neither the past nor the future really exist. All we have is this moment. If you aren’t present in the moment, you are not actually living.
Our minds are incredibly powerful and have the ability to create such distress and chaos – nearly all of my problems exist in my mind, and are not circumstantial. I’ve had more than a few very dark days, all a result of my own thoughts and assumptions. I’ve been asking myself, what if I harness this incredible power for good? What if, instead of spiraling about a sad future that probably won’t ever come to pass, I use that energy to focus on what is actually in front of me, letting go of the past events that don’t serve me, and having blind, unshakable faith that I will be OK in the years to come? What if there is tremendous good coming my way, and I’m actually safe? It’s really difficult for me to convince myself of all of the above – I am a master over-thinker, doom scroller/Googler and overall obsessor – but it’s my commitment for 2023.
I have an oncology appointment coming up in a few days, and I’m firmly staying in the moment until then. These visits are historically anxiety producing for me, but I am not going to let myself go down a dark road that, for now, exists only in my head. It will be OK, and I’m looking forward to starting the New Year with the all-clear on my health, and ready to tackle the other thoughts that took so much from me this past year. Change and uncertainty is not always a bad thing. There’s a quote that my mom loves, that she’s repeated to me many times. It’s going to be my mantra heading into January and in the years and decades to come:
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” -Rainer Maria Rilke
If this resonates with you, I see you – I’m here in the trenches with you. Lean on your loved ones, treat your body well, feel sunshine on your face, and remember, it’ll be OK. Live the questions now.
With love, gratitude and hope for the New Year,
Lauren
Thank you, Lauren for such beautiful honest writing. When I first knew of you through Dr. B’s masterclass I resonated with your cooking and you as a person. I read a book that I wanted to tell you about this past summer ( but didn’t because I thought it might be too intrusive) if you don’t already have it. It’s called Bittersweet by Susan Cain. You will love it. Victoria