Let’s not begin with the end in mind.

In my basement I have boxes and boxes of journals. Maybe you do, too?

I’ve been writing, journaling, spewing words since I was a teenager. It’s how I process. I’m not quick with words unless I’ve written them first. That’s just how it goes. For me, at least. And if I were to flip through those journals, every year, in that week before New Year’s, I could show you my lists. Things I wanted to do in the year ahead. Goals. Ambitions. Dreams. And every list has no less than 37 items. Truth.

But not this year.

Which is not to say there aren’t words. There are always words.

Just not specifics.

Because it’s nearly impossible to be specific anymore. Who knows what’s around the corner? Who knows what the universe will throw at us in 2022?

Perhaps it’s been like this along. We just *thought* we had control. Perhaps we’ve never really had control at all. 👻 Scary? Yes. 👻 But also … liberating?

So instead of my end-of-year resolutions and determinations, this year, I’m decidedly NOT beginning with the end in mind. I’m going to let go of outcomes for 2022. I’m going to let go of what ‘success’ looks like, or what I thought it would be. I’m letting go of the ‘shoulds’ for the year.

Heck if I can just keep everyone safe and healthy, that’s plenty, right?

(But of course, there’s more).

So here’s how I’m defining success in 2022:

Was I joyful? And did I bring a slice of joy those around me?
Was I creative? And did my creativity inspire others?
Was I grateful? And was my gratitude felt by those who needed it?
Was I generous? And did that generosity benefit my community?

If I can answer yes to those questions, that’s enough for me. Who knows, maybe I’ll resume the lists for 2023, but I doubt it.

How about you? I’d love to hear what you are aiming (or not aiming) for this year!

P.S. We finally introduced our kids to The Wizard of Oz last night. And since it seems we might be going back into isolation in our homes for a bit (#DamnYouOmicron), I thought I’d leave you with this snippet from the end. A timely and timeless reminder that we don’t need to look outside in order to find what’s been in us all along.