It's January 29th and I am now sitting down to write up my New Year's thoughts. That should give you some notion of how the first 29 days of 2018 have been. Whoosh, and they're gone. That's the gist of it. This isn't me registering a complaint so much as me slowing down enough to acknowledge reality.
My 2018 word for the year is Build. Maybe it should be Breathe instead... but I'll stick with my first choice. Here's why.
Last year, my word was Worthy, and I somehow managed to blog about it before the new year even began. I spent the year attempting to recognize what investments of my attention and energy were worthy of those resources, and learning to say no to (or at least shift down the priority list) those things that didn't qualify as such. It was an exercise in both self-discipline and exploration. I found new ways to invest in myself, in becoming a better, stronger, healthier, happier version of me. I pushed myself over the edge of my previous efforts. In the course of 2017, I stretched and shifted until my comfort zone was expanded well beyond what I'd clung safely to in years past.
One key reality I noticed as 2017 came to a close was the lack of regrets I had about the year. Sure, there is always some wishful thinking about what more I could have tried or accomplished. That's bound to happen. Compared to December 31st in most of my adult years though, this was almost nil.
That is why my word for 2018 is Build. Because I don't want to let up. Because I want to take advantage of the gains made last year and push them to new levels this year. I will build on the foundation I've laid. I will nurture and grow what has taken root. Honestly, I'm pretty darn thrilled with the efforts of last year, and I desire to reach the close of 2018, God willing, having spent my twelve months building upward and outward.
When complacency creeps in, when there's an inkling of stagnancy in my days, I have to remember why I started. I have to remember! Remembering where I used to be; remembering what I set out to do in the first place; remembering why I started is all the impetus I need to keep building.
New heights can be frightening, but not as frightening as standing still or sliding backward.