Last year I chose a word, or, more accurately, a word engulfed me. Vulnerable. I walked into an invitation to be more involved where I previously avoided commitment lest I be disappointed. I decided to pursue a nagging curiosity about teaching yoga. We dove feet first into an adoption application. I continued along the precarious precipice of small business life. Then other things took advantage of the opening for vulnerability. And I made it to the end of the year. I survived. And I feel silly using such a grand word when others are handling things of such a larger magnitude, but last year felt big to me. It was terrifying and exhausting and oh so worth it. Thank goodness.
Then another word started tiptoeing around my thoughts towards the end of the year. Patience. I was so sure this was my mantra for 2016. Then an Instagram post from Emily McDowell and an email from a dear friend with this word: intentional. It was as if someone else articulated my thoughts, their words resonated so deeply with me. I want to walk through 2016 with purpose. I want to partner intentionally, mother intentionally, work intentionally, practice and teach yoga intentionally, write intentionally, photograph intentionally. All these things I have been doing, I want to keep doing intentionally. I want to perk up my ears when other women have those discussions about work life balance because I am learning balance does not magically appear simply because you are balancing your time between two things. And this is where the year of vulnerability comes into play. Because when I do these things and do not “just see what happens” but move forward towards an intentional end, I leave myself open to big stinking, not particularly attractive failure. And when I get there, because I think failure in some shape or form is kind of inevitable, I hope I can congratulate on all the planning that got me there.