Blank inside

I was more than ready to turn the page on 2022. Many people in my circles felt the same way, so I’ve been told. 2022 was the hardest and worst year of my life (see previous post for more context) and yet, I do not feel an exhilarating fresh start with 2023. 

I possess no inspiration to set goals, make big plans, or create opportunities for success. And it feels okay. I’m doing okay, sometimes better than okay, but mostly just okay. And I’m okay with that right now.

‘Tis the season for New Year’s resolutions. Why the fascination with resolutions? Our capitalistic culture glamorizes making resolutions every new year, but most of us drop them sooner than later, despite our best intentions and the promise of improving ourselves…or something like that.

Who says starting anew can’t happen in March? Or June or October – or on an ordinary Thursday? I’m not in a space for a resolution, now or next Thursday, but still, I’m pondering the concept “resolve to always keep resolving.” My meditation practice falls under this resolving umbrella, which I’ve resumed in 2023 after an 8 1/2 month hiatus. Last week I certainly noticed a positive difference in my days after I meditated first thing in the morning. Who knows how it will unfold this week?

For the past two decades, 2023 has been a number that’s glimmered far off in the distant future for me. It’s the year Vivian graduates from college and William graduates from high school. It was a loving assumption I made when they were babies that now, in the context of the events in 2022, feels naive. I’m truly grateful that these two milestones are on track to happen this spring. 

It’s strange to acknowledge that one year from now, I have no idea where either of my kids will be living. To not know their future feels uncomfortable for me. Why is that? Definitely a sign for me to explore the root of that discomfort. Self-examination: a fun little midlife hobby.

Now that 2023 has arrived, I feel blank inside. Blank inside sounds kind of empty and lost, and that’s not exactly accurate. It’s more of an awareness that the days of the upcoming year are mostly veiled. I have no visions….just blankness….and lots of questions. More like a mystery. Experiencing our tragedy has taught me in the rawest of lessons that our future lives are unknowable, and yes, even uncontrollable. 

Think of a card you buy labeled “blank inside.” I buy such a card when I don’t know what occasion I’ll use it for, or when none of the others on the rack seem right for the recipient. Blank inside is like not knowing what to write at that point in time; words that are waiting to be written.

Yet there is potential in the not knowing, the unseen, the unformed, the unimagined. My hope is that the “unknowable” of 2023 brings peace and healing. I hope I can be present to each moment and recognize when these opportunities arise, even on an ordinary Thursday. 

I hope this sense of mystery, this veiled blankness, can inspire a yearning to uncover something new. 

Perhaps my “blank inside” feeling is the space I’m creating in preparation for that discovery. I’m not inclined to rush and fill that space with resolutions, plans, expectations. 

It’s time to wait, to have patience (so difficult). To soften and open my heart. To develop a keen ear and observant eye when I realize I am yet again, hanging in liminal space. On the threshold.