I’m a real sucker for making lists. I have been since I was a kid – constantly writing things I wanted to do in denim-covered journals. Making new year’s resolutions started as fun things I wanted to try (rhythmic gymnastics, learning the guitar), morphed into naive desires (have my first kiss), and later turned into strict discipline (lose weight, exercise more).
These days, I’ve stopped making grand lists at the beginning of the year and instead have reflected on all the good things from the year that’s just been; from small moments that brought me joy to big achievements that gave me a sense of pride. After years of battling with self-doubt, it’s a ritual I have to practice hard at. Sometimes it’s a solo endeavour, done by the fire with my favourite journal and pen. Sometimes it’s a combined effort, where friends gather around candle-lit tables with decks of tarot cards. More recently, it was done over dinner during a self-imposed retreat. There was a lot of laughter, and a few tears.
This year, I’m employing a slightly different strategy: Try January, as opposed to a dry one.
Perhaps it comes hand in hand with making list, but I’m a control freak. And trying new things doesn’t come naturally. I like to cocoon within what is familiar to me, whether that’s my home, my friendships, the places I like to eat, how I like to socialise.
So, not just for a month but using January as a springboard, I’m going to try my hand at one new thing a month. It could be a totally new recipe. A gig I’d never go to. Hypnotherapy has been suggested. That hip hop dance class that puts me way out of my comfort zone. It feels like a good thing, mainly because it actually feels quite terrifying. But apparently that’s when growth happens.
Words by Cat Sarsfield
