Lessons I've Already Learned in 2024
More fodder for the debate- are you team "New Year, New Me" or Deep Winter Rest? (+ January Playlist!)
Before you dive in, real quick:
🎧 I made you this January playlist. I’m starting to think I’m just feeding the algo back to you, but c’est la vie. I almost want to apologize for Randy Travis, but I can’t. I need that song right now and maybe it will make you smile, too.
✨ I’m seeking a small group of writers who want to work on editing and receiving feedback on their writing. If you’re interested, send me an email: sam@samhopwood.com. We would meet weekly for a set amount of weeks and we would have active work time and get better at polishing our work and sharing it out loud.
Ok, onto the post ❤️
In these early days of the year, I’m finding myself entrenched in the hellscape of perfectionism. I’ve been attached to certain outcomes in my life and while I’m letting go of a lot, it’s taking time and hard work to deprogram. I find it so annoying that you can intellectualize something but then the embodiment of the lesson takes time to integrate. I know that my perfectionist tendencies keep the negative self-talk rolling and keeps me further from big life dreams, but I still fall into that “go harder, do more” pattern of thinking way more often than I like to admit.
The pressure to be a new me, to improve, to become some version of myself is immense this year. In the not-so-distant past I have said that New Years is my favorite holiday- I just love a fresh start. But this year, I feel overwhelmed and sad, wondering if I will ever feel excited and energized by my creative projects and big life goals ever again. So, instead of the 8 to 10 drafts I’ve written leading up to this post, I’ll give you a list of Lessons I’ve Learned Already in 2024.
Love is a verb. I’m leaving New York (again) for a few months to come to Houston and care for my partner’s mother who suffered a stroke in late November. I have a rule with myself that I show up for Life and for Death. When there are loved ones drawing close to either side of The Veil, I draw close to bear witness, to hold space, to take care of the ones I love. It is worth it every time. It’s not that it’s “the right thing,” it’s that I (and my partner) can show up and so we are choosing to.
That being said, making a choice for Love still comes with its drawbacks. I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress for a few weeks now and there’s something about not having a real bed that makes my nervous system freak the fuck out. Anytime I’ve ended up on an air mattress for an extended period of time, historically, it’s been a sign that I made a wrong turn somewhere. It’s a choice this time, but it’s taking effort to continue holding that in mind.
The Body Really Does Keep The Fucking Score
The good news of being in a suburb is it’s about 700% easier (and cheaper) to do things like go to the gym. I’m working out again after about 2 years of having panic attacks every time I drop into downward dog. I’m getting on the elliptical and remembering how therapeutic cardio can be. I’m lifting heavy things and isolating muscles and going to yoga and pilates classes and shooting hoops with my cutie in the gym. It’s been amazing to feel my body work again, but those panic attacks didn’t just disappear- after every workout sesh, I am a puddle of tears. The sobbing comes from deep in my core. My abdomen shakes in pure release. The grief feels old and fresh at the same time- the last 3 years have been transitionary and tough, and I’ve had to hold it together to survive. I take these “grief release sessions” as a sign that I’m healing, coming out of survival mode, and grounding into my current reality.
I have needs and they’re gonna cost me.
Up until about 5 years ago, I didn’t know I had needs. I wasn’t allowed to have needs growing up, and somewhere in that soup of dysfunction I learned that to be in relationships, you should have as few needs as possible and make space for all of your partners’ needs. In my late teens and early twenties, I believed that other people have limits on their energy, on their time, on their focus, but me? I was limitless. I could work three jobs and keep my house spotless and maintain all of my relationships with family and friends— as long as I could carve out a weekday to be totally alone, in bed having a nervous breakdown about every three to six weeks.
I don’t know if it was the pandemic or my divorce, or just growing older and getting to know myself better, but I’ve come to see that those nervous breakdowns were probably (autistic?) burnout. I just thought I was quirky and kind of lazy for needing to so thoroughly crash out and do nothing every few weeks.
Now, my list of needs looks something like this:
I can do one activity a day that needs my full attention. That could be a meeting, an appointment, a big errand I’ve been putting off, or cooking a real meal.
I need 8-10 hours of sleep every single night. That’s not really new, but I’ve noticed that my nervous system is far more regulated when I get consistent sleep, and that is the one thing I’m calling in this year- a consistently regulated nervous system.
Sound-canceling headphones have changed my life. I bought a pair of Beats during the pandemic when I was living with three other people. I wore them around the house when I wasn’t available for conversation. I wore them when I was alone. I wore them to meditate. I wore them hiking. I wore them in the grocery store and noticed how I could stay in my body. Had I been out of my body this entire time? Every time I went to the grocery store? (Yes.)
Alone time- so much alone time. I need yoga time, workout time, meditation time, art time, writing time, walking time— alone.
The rub is that if I prioritize my needs, I end up alone, slowly working on my projects and my big, delusional dreams of publishing a book and one day selling a screenplay, with nothing to show for it outwardly. I end up with fewer accomplishments, but more peace and a calmer inner state. I wish that conclusion was easier to swallow. I’m working on it- radical acceptance is also a phrase I’m hanging my hat on this year.
Rest is revolutionary, but it does not come easy.
Rest is a radical act in the face of capitalism and the urge to constantly be creating. I’m seeing about a 50/50 split on my social media feeds that 1) it’s January and we do not need to be at our most ambitious, most driven in the dead of winter and 2) “New Year, New You” propaganda. I am firmly planted in the camp of rest and deep winter rejuvenation, but the pull to strive for more is so strong. For now, I’m taking notes and trying not to pressure myself into DOING IT ALL RIGHT NOW. I have time to unfold. I am merely contemplating the seeds I want to plant and the outcomes I’m working towards.We are not always meant to be working or growing or improving or even knowing what’s next. All I can do is attempt to stay in my body and be present for what is in front of me.