Buh-Bye 2022. No love is lost here.

Goodbye, 2022. I have never been so eager for a year to come to an end. I don't think I'm alone in this sentiment. Across my social media accounts, I've seen a number of people proclaim 2022 as the worst and hardest year of their lives. "Worst" and "hardest." Wow. Those are powerful words.

For me, in 2022, I became a cheat.

I cheated death twice. That sounds dramatic, doesn't it? But the dramatics don't make the gravity of what I experienced any less true or any less traumatic.

How did I cheat death? Let's revisit some powerful words from this year and dive in.

In 2022, I felt the power of words like...

mammogram

biopsy

abnormal tumors

breast surgeon

cancer

Finally, the word benign (on both counts) proved to be the most powerful of all. Followed closely by relief.

I got lucky. Another powerful word I struggle with.

But just a month later, I was confronted with even more powerful words:

CAT 4 hurricane

wind speed

storm surge

shelter-in-place

power outage

eye of the storm

devastation

destruction

uncontrollable circumstances

wobble

I made it through these things with my health, my home, and my family intact. Again, lucky girl.

The gratitude I feel to be on the other side of a dodged cancer bullet and a devastating hurricane aren't things I can talk or write about without getting choked up. I will never be able to fully express my gratitude and love to the people who showed up for me during these hellacious moments to offer support, space, comfort, and most importantly humor.

You know who you are.

I might never be able to thank you enough, but you can bet without a doubt if you ever need me for anything you better believe I will show up for you. Without question or hesitation. That's a promise.

And I can't talk about powerful words without mentioning the one I struggle with the most: change.

Evading cancer and surviving a CAT 4 hurricane changes you.

Undeniably so.

I no longer have any tolerance for bullshit.

I no longer can entertain people, places, or things that don't make my soul sing.

I am more judicial with my time. My no's are more frequent and thoughtful so my yes's are more meaningful.

2022 was a powerful lesson in letting go of what no longer serves me. After all, the things you let go of also let go of you. Holding on too long only hurts all involved.

I am taking deep, grateful breaths of beautiful fresh air as I gladly and enthusiastically open my arms to give 2023 a big welcoming hug. Letting go makes me feel lighter and more buoyant in the face of whatever this year has in store.

I'm not setting goals this year. I'm setting intentions. A few aims to guide everything I do:

Peace. Calm. Joy. And the not knowing...

"There is great power in not knowing. Not knowing what is next, not knowing what to decide, not knowing how you will make it to where you know you want and need to be. Every given moment contains within it doorways of opportunity, and when you choose to walk through one, you make realities available to you that were once invisible. When you do not know what is next, you enter the realm of infinite potential. Instead of trying to plan your life so safely and so succinctly, you can begin to plan for the moment, the joy, the journey. Instead of living on autopilot, you can learn how to continuously meet the ever-changing, ever-possible now. When you finally admit that you do not know what is next, you enter the golden vortex- the space between everything you know you're meant for and anything you had previously imagined to be, where you finally become the person that can live in the life you are meant for." ~Brianna Wiest

Until next time, my friends.

xoxo.