My Year of Living Honestly

White wooden signpost with four arrows – “honesty”, “ethics”, “respect”, “integrity”.
I’m not much of a rear-view mirror gal, but I think it’s healthy at the end of the year to sit quietly and allow the last 365 days to settle around you like a nice, fluffy layer of snow or a scratchy, irritating barbed wire fence. If we figure out the theme of the year just lived, maybe it can teach us something for 2013.
2012 was a good year for me; for us, in our little nuclear family of husband, wife and two dogs. 2012 was my year of living honestly. I haven’t had a whole lot of those since I grew up. I’ve had years of lying to myself or deluding myself or self-medicating myself or just flat-out, not paying attention. I’ve even had a few where I was deliriously happy. But, completely honest? Not so much.
This was the year that I challenged many of my long-held ‘core beliefs’ about politics. The year I stopped drinking the Kool-Aid and started looking for the truth that underlies all of the spin and manipulation of the two political parties. It was shocking, painful, humiliating and in the end, freeing. The realization that you don’t have to be ‘right’; that you don’t have to fight to the death for your side. Pure liberation.
2012 was the year that I realized that my radio persona had bled so much into my personal life that I had lost track of ‘me’. What’s funny and entertaining 4 hours a day on a morning radio show, isn’t quite so charming the other 20 hours. That the professional necessity of always having to have something to say about everything is fake and tedious. That real life dictates that one listen, learn and absorb, rather than spew.
This was also the year that I admitted that family is important and that I miss mine; terribly. I ran out the door at 19 and never looked back. I couldn’t wait to be on my own and proximity to my family was not a priority…at all. Now, it is.
In May, I spontaneously bought a 10 acre farm in northern Michigan, even though I live and work in Colorado. Once I caught my breath, I had to figure out why I jumped in. I’m financially conservative and measured when it comes to buying something as simple as a new coffee maker and yet, I bought a second home 1600 miles away from the first one, in a weekend.
That was me speaking up. The me that has always wanted to live near the water; the me that misses family and ‘home’. The me that has been buried under my ego and money and career aspirations for many years. The me that is truly, me.
So, here we go. Every day is another chance, but there is something about starting a brand new year. It’s like when you were a kid in elementary school and your teacher gave you a nice, clean sheet of paper and a box of crayons. You almost didn’t want to spoil that clean sheet, but alas, nothing is created if the sheet is left clean.
What will 2013 be for you? You don’t have to decide ahead of time. I didn’t one year ago. In fact, just take the first step on the path and that could be as simple as vowing to open up to the newness of a new sheet of clean, unspoiled paper. Get out your crayons……
Let’s run away…..
I was standing in the bathroom the other day drying my hair, when an idea hit me. I’ve had some of my greatest epiphanies and revelations in the bathroom. Doing something mindless allows my brain to wander down unbeaten paths. I was thinking about a time years ago when I was between jobs. My husband and I packed up the car and headed west.
We had no real plan or agenda in mind; just a general idea that we wanted to explore Montana, Wyoming and Idaho, so we grabbed the dogs and a few maps and wandered for about 3 weeks. It was freeing and fun and undisciplined and as I mused about it the lightening bolt struck: I want to run away from home.
There are so many things in life that can suck you dry. Jobs, kids, marriage, parents, finances, health issues; you’re not quite sure who you are or what you want. It’s not a sign of weakness to admit this; it’s human. It’s a sign that you’re about to grow.
Sometimes we need to walk away; to step back and break the monotony of ‘this is how we do things’. We get up at the same time, drive to work at the same time, sit at our same desk, eat our same lunch, rush to meet our family obligations, plunk down in front of the tv/computer, fall into bed. And so it goes.
In the academic world sabbaticals are accepted and encouraged. It could be a month or a couple of years, but your job is there when you get back. What a fabulous perk, eh? I have a great job, but I crave some time away; away from the screwy morning radio hours; away from having to always have a perspective or an opinion; away from having to talk, talk, talk.
A sabbatical gives us a chance to check back in with ourselves. A chance to leave behind the rigid, soul-sucking routines that much of our lives can become. A chance to re-connect with what feeds our soul or excise what doesn’t. A chance to recharge the batteries of our passion and reassess our strengths and weaknesses.
I know it seems like pure fantasy; who can really just walk away from work to screw around and ‘find themselves’? Not many of us and that’s a shame. Imagine how much more productive we would be? Nothing clears the mind and creates focus like getting away from the stuff that drives us crazy. You can have the best job in the world, but there are times that you just want to walk away and regain some perspective on the rest of your life. It’s nearly impossible to do that with deadlines, obligations, meetings, budgets or ratings banging at the back of your head.
So, let’s be practical. Most of us can’t march into the boss’s office and announce that we’d like to take a couple of months off to recharge and come back as a more committed, valuable employee. But, a girl can dream, eh? Maybe it’s as minor as shuffling our routine, adding a walk at lunch time, changing our diet, committing to a good book in lieu of TV, spending more time with friends, saying no to an extra (and overwhelming) task.
Back to my earlier sabbatical years ago that inspired this post. I left a great job and explored other opportunities for a year or two and then recommitted myself to my radio career and achieved greater success than I ever imagined. Without that break, that time away to reassess, it never would have happened. It was a big risk that paid great rewards. Lesson learned.