Choosing a Word of the Year
Some folks choose a word to guide their year. It functions like a mantra to help them manifest a goal.
My word of the year comes to me. She chooses me. She appears one day, bags in hand, ready to move in. As the months pass and we get to know one another, the word offers me much-needed lessons and wisdom.
What’s surprised me most about receiving a word for the year is the way they abide. So far, all my words have their home in me. They continue to offer grace year after year like a tribe of dear friends. They collaborate with one another and encourage one another to share even more with me as I’m ready to receive it. (or need to receive it)
In 2019, Practice arrived. She gives me permission to experiment, risk, prototype, and fail.
In 2020, it was Rhythm. She’s not a driving, disciplined march. She’s like jazz, the pulse underneath improvisation and adaptation that holds everything together.
Truth joined us in 2021. She helps me say what needs to be said, making space for deep conversation, healing, and peacemaking.
Last year, Curiosity surprised me. I didn’t know how much I needed her. She helps me lead with questions rather than answers, opening the way for unexpected possibilities.
Struggling For My Next Word
My word for the new year usually appears sometime in December, but that didn’t happen last year. The new year came, no word. Weeks went by, no word. Would one come?
I stepped outside myself and went searching for my word. Risk – Abide – Courage. Wonderful words but they weren’t my word. Others began sharing their word with me. Their words weren’t my word.
I wandered. I wondered. I worried. Was my grief blocking the way? Did I need to spend more time with the words I already have? It was unsettling. Where was my word? I knew I needed her.
Then last week, the knock came. I went to the door to meet Adventure. What a word! Expansive. Inviting. Eager. Daring.
I’d felt myself shrinking in recent months. Pulling back. Second guessing. I know it’s the shadow side of grief but knowing is not the same as making your way through it. Adventure is here, machete in one hand, compass in the other, cutting the clinging vines from the path, helping me move forward into places I’ve never been. Welcome, to the family Adventure.
What word is choosing you this year? I’d love to hear your story.
Choosing a Word of the Year Update © 2023 Lisa Ann Moss Degrenia, http://www.revlisad.com