“Hey, I finished that letter for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, wiping my hair out of my face with the back of a sudsy hand. We were in the church kitchen, washing dishes after youth. Snack time had gotten a bit messy. Frosting is rarely a good idea when middle school boys are involved.
“I can give you a copy if you want to read it.”
“No, it’s okay,” I replied. When someone agrees to write a reference letter for you it’s always good, right? Why would I need to see it?
“I was … honest.”
I noticed the pause.
“Honest? What does that mean?” I glanced at him.
“I mean … it was a good letter. I highly recommended you. Of course I did.”
Now he was backtracking. Maybe I should read the letter?
“What did you say?”
He crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter.
Great. He was settling in for a discussion.
“I said you’d be good. I said you’d be a great fit in the program. I said you’re a hard worker. Passionate about youth.”
“But?”
“But … I said you struggle with being present. You do. You know you do. You’re always looking at what’s ahead. Like your countdowns. You’re focussed on what’s ahead instead of what’s right now.”
“So? What’s wrong with that?” I was miffed.
What an unfair thing to say. Of course I was looking ahead. Looking ahead was the only thing that had gotten me through the past few years.
My young adult pastor had said something negative about me in his recommendation letter. What would the college think?
****
Looking back - he was right. His assessment was accurate.
I’ve never been good at reflection. That feels strange to admit, me being a writer and all, but it’s true. I’ve always been more focused on what’s ahead of me than on what’s behind.
This year is no different. I’ve never been big on New Year’s itself - it’s just another day and I know that starting a new calendar doesn’t change anything - but I’ve been ready to turn the page on 2022. It was a tough year. I was done.
On December 31, I attended a Rest & Reflection session with the ladies of Exhale, a community for creative moms. I’ve been a member of Exhale for years but my participation has been wholly dependent on how much time and energy I have. (Sort of like my writing, come to think of it …) The majority of the session was for reflection on the past year, with the idea that you need to reflect on the past before you’re ready to move ahead into the future.
We were given time to journal and reflect on what we're thankful for, answered prayers, unexpected joys and saving graces. I wrote about a memory I won’t forget, the hardest lesson I learned, and what one thing I would change, if I had control over any one thing in 2022.
I left the session feeling unexpectedly … at peace.
I spent so much of 2022 feeling completely overwhelmed. Frazzled. At the end of my rope. More often than not I felt like I was doing the next thing I needed to do to stay afloat and that was it. All year long.
It was a difficult year - but during the reflection I realized that I can see things I accomplished and lessons I learned. I set boundaries. I advocated for my health. I learned to rest. We took a family vacation for the first time in years and made lasting memories. I learned over and over again that I can do hard things. There was a lot of pain throughout the past year but there was a whole lot of goodness sprinkled throughout as well.
****
At the end of the session we were invited to speak out loud a dream.
I’ve been in survival mode so long that it was a struggle. Can I dream? Is it okay to do something so … frivolous? Can I take time to set goals and make plans and do something that is creative purely for the sake of being creative? It feels like such a luxury these days.
The world is on fire and I’m often still at a loss for words. Am I wasting my time?
****
No.
I’m learning that creativity is an important part of who I am.
Writing is how I reflect. Writing is how I process …
But this year, I’m not setting concrete goals for my writing. I’m not aiming to submit X number of essays to X number of places each month. I’m not planning to unearth the book proposal that’s taking up space on my old computer.
This year, I’m writing for the sake of writing.
Ashlee ended the Rest & Reflection session with a beautiful prayer, and the line that stuck out to me was this: “Let us be satisfied with adding beauty to the world and let that be enough.”
Yes. Let that be enough.