I'm dedicating my January newsletters to the topic of transformation. I adore the new-year energy and feel like sitting in it for a bit longer.
But first I want to clarify that my focus isn't on top-down, productivity or achievement-focused transformation done in the spirit of self-improvement. My focus is on acknowledging, allowing, and maybe even delighting in the constant state of transformation that we are always living within.
This new year, I've seen many people proclaim that it's okay to stay the same, to fight pressure to change. I get where they're coming from — it's a backlash against productivity and achievement and self-improvement culture, which I also think is a toxic culture. I support self-acceptance and non-conforming.
But also? The idea as it’s being put forth is untrue.
To "stay the same" is an impossibility. Right now, as you read this sentence, you are a different person than you were when you first opened the email. Cells have died and sprouted within you. Neurons have fired or stopped firing. You've shifted your body weight, taken breaths, tensed or relaxed muscles. Reading my words is literally changing your brain. You'll be a different person yet again when you finish reading.
Change is constant and unstoppable. You can never again be who you are right now.
Or right now.
Or now.
We can accept ourselves, we can resist pressure to conform or self-improve, but we cannot "stay the same," even if we think that's what we want. Our thoughts and feelings, our personalities, our appearances, our physical sensations, our beliefs, values, and desires — ever evolving.
Humans are dynamic, not static. Life is dynamic, not static. Our bodies and minds do not stay still or the same for even one second at a time. So how to embrace this inevitable and constant change? How to perhaps guide the flow of change in a soft, loving way rather than try to fight it or attempt to force it the direction we want it to go from a place of stress and control?
When I say I'll be focusing on transformation, that's what I mean.
As I mentioned last week, each year, I choose a word of the year.
My 2024 word is gentle.
In 2023, I learned about the high sensitivity trait. I scored 100% on the high sensitivity scale. As I worked to allow and embrace my sensitivity rather than deny it as weakness, I became more aware of how harsh the world felt.
Many days I woke up and felt harshness assault me. Like there were little jabs stabbing at me a dozen times a day. Or a hundred times a day. Or a thousand.
News felt harsh, social media felt harsh, walking down the street as loud cars that seem to have doubled in size over the past decade whizzed by felt harsh.
Casual conversations with people ranging from store clerks to friends and family often felt harsh. I think it's just American culture to frequently complain, criticize, and gossip. To be demanding, impatient, and easily frustrated. To become defensive easily. To opine in a challenging tone.
Throughout this time, I gained an awareness of the divine feminine, a concept I knew little to nothing about prior to 2023 and would've completely scoffed at as an outdated sexist concept at any other point in my life. But the divine feminine felt like a refuge within the harshness. She felt gentle.
As I began practicing turning to this divine feminine for guidance multiple times each day, my word of the year for 2024 became obvious. The divine feminine was clearly calling me to become more gentle, to seek out gentleness wherever I could find it, to create gentleness however I could.
What does "gentle" mean to me?
I believe gentleness overlaps quite a bit with softness, warmth, simplicity, kindness, and love. Gentleness is accepting and forgiving. When someone is gentle with you, you don’t have to worry about moving too slowly, being too sensitive, making a mistake, or being judged. You feel seen and supported.
Physically, I believe gentleness aligns with the parasympathetic nervous system's rest and digest state I've been trying to live within this past year. Gentleness aligns with ventral vagal activation. Gentleness is anti-inflammatory. Gentleness is just the right amount of stimulation.
Gentleness isn't weak or passive, but it sure is chill.
Gentleness isn't in a hurry. Gentleness isn't critical or judgmental.
Gentleness softens harshness the way water turns shards into sea glass.
To me, approaching life with gentleness means listening more and speaking less. It means slowing down, demanding less, and allowing myself to fully feel my desire rather than always immediately acting from it or in an effort to satisfy it. It involves reflecting on and accepting what happens instead of impatiently and frenetically trying to control outcomes.
I want to practice gentleness not only toward others, but toward myself. I'd planned on moving in 2023. I'd announced that I'd be moving out of state to many people and even publicly, here. The move didn't happen, due to multiple unpleasant surprises and setbacks I won't get into now.
I don't know when or even where I'll move. Yet moving is something I deeply desire. The uncertainty feels painful. Self-doubt arises. Anger arises. Sadness. I could easily beat myself up about not moving, but instead, in the name of gentleness, I’ve decided to accept the situation without self-blame.
Irritability is something I deal with and have written about before. I don't know that I will ever become a person who doesn't feel irritated easily. Irritation feels inevitable as a highly sensitive person in a loud, harsh world.
But I do know that when I feel irritation, I don't have to let it control me. I can instead ask, how can I treat myself and the person or situation I feel irritated about with gentleness in this moment? So far, that question has helped a lot.
Lastly, in light of this gentle approach, I'm making changes to the newsletter:
New name, new logo. As you maybe noticed, I gave the newsletter a little makeover. After 35 weeks of writing, I've admitted to myself that this is a wellness newsletter and it'd make sense if it looked like one.
500 words or less. I can be wordy, lol. This is my final lengthy email, at least for 2024. A shorter word count would be gentler on me and, in this age of information overload, a kindness to my readers.
An image with each newsletter. Taking a photo or finding an image each week would be fun for me, a form of creative expression, and another kindness to my readers.
Positive focus. In 2023, I dragged a fine-tooth comb over my life and wrote about much of what wasn't working. While that was immensely helpful, in 2024, I plan to instead focus more on the strengths and joys in both my life and the world. I believe doing so would make writing the newsletter more pleasant for me and be a kindness to my readers.
May you all have a gentle day, month, and year. So grateful for you. ❤️