Lessons from 2020
Journaling this Christmas in Asheville, NC, 2020.
2020 was a big one, you guys.
I left my job of 12 years, lost my young friend to a heart attack, narrowly escaped a money-draining self-help cult, landed an exciting consultant job, and got divorced. And that was all before March.
The rest of the year was similar to many others—dashed plans, job loss, massive uncertainty, loneliness, reckoning with white supremacy, moving, election anxiety and activism, and a whole lot of self-care and surrender.
I am so fortunate that my dear ones and I stayed mostly healthy, and that I benefit from enough privilege to receive unemployment and stay in a family home for awhile. So many others don’t have those safety nets.
But in addition to the hardship, I also want to talk about how there was so much gold in all the rubble of 2020.
Personally, If I hadn’t lost my job, I wouldn’t have had so much time and energy to devote to The Retreat Space. The pandemic allowed for me to have new adventures, rest, quality time with loved ones, and moments of connection and creativity that never would have been possible otherwise. I have become such a stronger, more resilient, more socially aware person because of 2020.
Collectively, 2020 changed all of us. Together, we are building a new world.
~
Writing, meditation, ritual, and self-inquiry are some of the tools that help me process change. Every year at this time, I spend a few weeks coming back to my journal. Writing helps me capture the essence of the year, soak in the lessons I learned, and move forward feeling lighter and more purposeful.
Part of my process this year was to create Lost & Found: A Self-Guided Ritual to Process 2020. The retreat contains five lessons, five guided audio meditations, and five beautiful worksheets of reflection questions to help us discover and find meaning in what we’ve lost and found this year.
I poured my wisdom and experience into this retreat with the hope that it can support your healing process. In this post, I offer and answer five reflection questions from Lost & Found (one question from each of the five parts). It’s a sneak peek into the power of this at-home retreat, and the many lessons we learned this year.
If you feel called, curl up with your journal and blanket and answer the questions with me!
PART ONE: Reflecting on 2020
Here are some ways 2020 allowed me to try new ways of being:
The “why not?!” feeling that came with the total upheaval of my normal life made me feel braver to try new things, like launching The Retreat Space
In my departure from years-long routines, I’m learning my natural pace and rhythm for waking up, working, and rest
The mobility that came with losing my job enabled me to spend tons of amazing quality time with my family (and the mountains) in North Carolina
Extra time and a stricter budget allowed me to slow down and enjoy learning to cook, rather than always being frustrated by being a beginner
PART TWO: Finding Meaning in Loss
Here are some things I lost in 2020 that I was grateful to say goodbye to:
Being on auto-pilot and taking wonderful things for granted, like deep breaths, dinner parties, and hugs.
Denying that I have benefited from and been complicit in systemized white supremacy.
My tendency to trust that everyone has my best interest at heart. I learned the hard way this year that trust has to be earned, discernment has to be exercised, and I am fiercely capable of standing up for myself.
Commuting through the wintery slush of Boston winters.
Spending way too much money on takeout, manicures, and shopping.
Losing my apartment helped me physically step out of a 2-year period of post-divorce transition and step into a phase of new beginnings.
Wearing a bra. Good riddance!!!
PART THREE: Feeling Lost is Part of Transition
Here are some ways I’ve re-framed feeling “stuck” or “failing” this year:
When I think about what I’ve lost, I remember that I am shedding layers to make space for the new.
When I wish I had more followers, sales, or attendees for The Retreat Space, I remind myself that I am a beginner.
When I’m scared about being unemployed, I remind myself that it’s not my fault, that it’s temporary, and that so many are in the same boat. I also remind myself to enjoy my free time and use this opportunity to work on my business.
When my progress feels slow, I remind myself that I’m still growing roots after major upheavals.
When something I try “fails,” I commend myself for trying, and I ask myself what I learned.
When I go through sad or unproductive periods, I remind myself that I’m in a major transition, and transition is hard. I remind myself that my body is processing a lot and needs to refuel. I remind myself that my worth has nothing to do with my productivity.
PART FOUR: Finding our Truth
Here are some things that used to fulfill me but no longer feel aligned:
Spending lots of money on clothes. (My resolution in 2020 was to break my shopping addiction, so I went cold-turkey. I bought no clothes this year!)
Living in the center of the city. I used to want to be close to the action and now I want to be close to nature.
Drinking cocktails (now it’s just every once-in-awhile).
My wonderful little Cambridge apartment.
My job as Design Studio Manager at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, an amazing job that brought me so much fulfillment…until it didn’t fit anymore.
Certain friendships that have fallen away now that I’m more aligned with my true self.
Full-time employment, and pouring all my energy into someone else’s vision.
PART FIVE: Celebration, Ritual, & Moving Forward
Here are some ways I feel abundant in this moment:
I have this precious temporary moment in time where I get to stay in a magical house in the woods by myself, right next door to my sweet parents.
I am still integrating the sweet relief of an incoming administration that won’t cause active harm to its citizens.
My body is healthy, young, beautiful, strong, and energetic.
Through The Retreat Space, I have built an amazing community of healers, seekers, and friends that I can’t wait to nurture and grow this year.
I have easy access to delicious food, fresh air, clean water, medical care, education, and therapy.
I can be under the vast open sky here—relishing the abundance of the sun, the moon, the stars, the wind, and the billowy mountain clouds.
I am here, and I am alive.