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A Single Word

I was introduced to the concept of choosing a focus word for the New Year by a dear friend who was participating in the One Little Word scrap-booking challenge. I did eventually sign up, but abandoned ship after the first month when I realized that my capacities and supplies for creating visual art of any form were limited. The idea of selecting a word to grow into over the course of the year stuck with me, though, and I’ve continued the practice.

As the old year closes, I pick a word that speaks to me—a word that embodies a change I need to make or something I’d like to expand in my life. I always make a collage of magazine photos and text that exemplify that trait or concept. The collage isn’t exactly a vision board, just a cut-and-paste visual reminder of my word. I hang it in a place of honor in my bathroom—don’t laugh, that idea came from a licensed therapist—where I see it often enough to prod my mind into remembering it.

The first year I tried it, my word was SHINE. I’d finished cancer treatment at the end of 2010, was sporting a half-inch buzz cut, and needed a little confidence to carry me into 2011. The life-changing outcomes of that word were remarkable. I earned a slot as a community columnist for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel and traded my classroom for an office, leaving the comfort of kindergarten for a higher profile role as a student support teacher, moves that grew my people skills and pushed me past the shyness that had plagued my social interactions since childhood.

In 2012 I focused on JOY. I took the time to notice and celebrate the little things. I made time for the things I liked to do. I loved running, so I tackled training for my first marathon. I loved writing, so I committed myself to writing something—anything—every day. The demands of my job increased that year, as did the stress level and time commitment required to do it well, so the focus on enjoyment was instrumental to my sanity.

I was still floundering with the manuscript I kept rewriting and sending out. My angst over if and when I would ever finish and publish the book led me to 2013’s word: BELIEVE. The word was put into unexpected use when my student support position was cut, and again when I got the unfortunate news that the community columnist program would be ending at the end of the year. My belief that there must be a higher purpose behind the changes helped me to navigate the transitions with faith and trust that all would be well.

2014’s word was SIMPLIFY. At the end of 2013, I felt scattered and adrift, constantly at loose ends in my responsibilities and relationships. My simplification process was designed to eliminate as many of the unnecessary, emotionally draining situations in my life as possible. I released my death-grip on friendships that no longer worked, let go of impossible expectations and my tendency toward perfectionism. I circled the wagons around my mental and emotional health in a conscious act of self-preservation, and invested my energy in self-acceptance. I practiced paying attention to my own needs instead of constantly deferring to someone else’s, and finally began to make peace with my natural preferences for solitude, quiet, and introverted introspection.

My focal word for 2015 was PROSPERITY. It wasn’t meant to be a search for monetary wealth, but more of an exploration of how much was “enough” in my life. With a good deal of journaling and soul-searching, I came to the realization that if my perpetual search for a publisher for my manuscript was a source of angst, then the pain of rejection from traditional publishing venues was a self-inflicted misery that I could eliminate. It boiled down to a very simple choice: I could either continue to sit on my manuscript in fear that my writing wasn’t good enough, or I could accept that I’d done the best I could and get the story into the world where it might actually help people. I took the brave leap into self-publishing, and I have no regrets.
The word that’s marinating in my mind for 2016 is OPEN. I’m ready—I think—to push past some self-imposed limitations and fears, to open myself to the world of possibility and the promise of new opportunities. I picture a gilded door opening…and wonder where this word will lead me. 
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