A Strange Rollercoaster

Yesterday I realized that there are less than 8 weeks left in the year. A year that has gone by slow and fast all at once. A year that was definitely not what anyone expected it would be.

At the beginning of a new year, I typically plan out at least a few things I want to do in the 12 months to come. It’s a combination of trips I’d like to take and goals I’d like to work towards. My goals are never about a result; they tend to focus on some sort of process. Because you can control the effort you put into things, but you cannot control the outcomes.

Obviously, 2020 had other plans for all of us. Like everyone else, I cancelled trips planned in March, April, May, June, and September. There were certainly moments of disappointment in doing that. But they were tiny disappointments compared to what other people were having to cancel. Plus, it’s easy for me to just think of it as having a savings account with Delta. With funds available until 2022.

I might have cancelled all my trips, but I didn’t cancel my goals. There were absolutely some adjustments, although not as many as you’d think. And it feels really weird knowing that I just might actually check off all my 2020 goals in less than 8 weeks. The work won’t be done, but the progress I was hoping for this year could be.

It’s weird because that never happens for me. There isn’t a single year in recent memory when it has. It’s also incredibly weird because, of all years for it to happen, it happens to be this year. This strange rollercoaster called 2020 we’ve all been riding.

This year has been a lot of things to a lot of people. And for a lot of people, this year has been the worst year they’ve ever had. That is not something to make light. It’s something to respect, acknowledge, and hold enough space for. Life feels impossible when you are surrounded by trees and unable to find your way back to the trail. Those people need us to stand beside them in the forest, holding their hands and helping them feel less alone.

There have been years when I’ve been the one lost in the forest. When it feels like everyone else is having this amazing time in life, and it takes all the energy you have to simply stay on your feet. I wonder if it would be more or less lonely to feel that way at the same time as millions of other people. Part of me thinks it would make you feel even more lonely.

During my times lost among the trees, I wasn’t angry that other people were having a good year when mine was a disaster. There were moments when someone would say something and I would feel their words knock the wind out of me. But the difference in our lives wasn’t their fault. And when I would finally be able to catch my breath, it was nice to know there was still good things possible in the world. It gave me something to hope for when I was lost in the dark woods.

Like all years, this year is a mixed bag depending on who you ask. That is true of every year, and every day. It’s something we don’t often think about. That the absolute worst day in your life is someone else’s greatest day they’ve ever had.

My year hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows, but I’m grateful for exactly what it has been. In short, my world became less chaotic. When I slowed down, I had the chance to take a step back and look at my life from a distance. I chose to look at what turned into 5 months of furlough as my chance to reevaluate and reprioritize.

The excuses I always made to myself were no longer valid. I was no longer ever too busy to make faster progress towards my goals. So, I chose to not give myself a chance to make new excuses. Instead I made new routines. Routines that have stuck as my world speeds back up. That’s the thing about rollercoasters. It’s the downs that give you the momentum to climb up.