Let me begin by saying “happy 2025, friend!”
Prepare yourself for some disjointed thoughts attempting to forge into a cohesive reflection. I am writing this on the last evening of 2024, the next to last night of being in our beachfront house that we have rented for the month of December. As I am typing, I am looking directly at the ocean, witnessing the waves crest and fall, as they have each day over the last month. The tide changes (twice daily) and the sounds of the waves echo the underwater shift, and I can’t help but think of life’s metaphor being perfectly represented by the everchanging, enchanting, and sometimes haunting cycles of the waves. In any new year, I have avoided resolutions and prefer to pause and do a lengthier assessment of how I handled the cycles of the past year. In the reflection of this past year, I don’t have strong memories of feeling big ups and downs but instead have the sensation we experience after a delicious and well-balanced meal—satiated and grateful. It seems unlikely that this past year was any easier or breezier than other years (although 2019 and 2020 were super rough ones for me). Like an old-fashioned movie reel featuring 2024, I have images of international travels, the first year of being a bicoastal resident, adjusting to empty-nesting, forging deeper relationships with people dear to me, and prioritizing family and alone time. Professionally, I made decisions that grew me and the LYT landscape, even if the lessons learned didn’t equal the output of revenue. I was unbothered by outcomes that might have needled me five years ago. I felt present and observant in many of my personal interactions in a manner I would not have had much time for in certain past moments. This past year appears to have shown me that slowing down and riding the waves of internal energy and external forces is perhaps the most satisfying gift I can offer myself. I have endured painful grief that still holds space in my cells, and tugs of uncertainty and reluctance to age. But this past year, in its sweet satisfying rhythm has SHOWN me that courage doesn’t have to be revered as a powerful act, but in the small moments of paying attention. Courage is the art of changing a landscape, an attitude, a limited belief, or simply slowing down the moments with the fullest attention. I still have many pursuits that I haven’t completed or even started (a book and a patented postural bra—I am still going to make you happen!) But this past year has crystalized the power of willingness, change, and presence, with the least expectation possible. Knowing that none of us will be immune to pain, grief, and suffering, doesn’t it make sense to fortify ourselves in every way to handle the unknown paths that we may encounter? As the pace of life continues to feel faster with time flying by, I wonder if we can attune ourselves to nature and it’s more predictable rhythm, recognizing that even nature throws out some mighty big curveballs? Doesn’t it seem like we only stop the treadmill of ‘doing stuff’ or getting somewhere when some big event pushes us off the pace? Can we strive to thrive in this new year, tuning in to our wavelike emotions and energy, listening to the wild call of our nature?
My reflection is also an invitation to us all. These insights are solid pillars of my own growth and evolution, but I encourage you to adapt or modify to satisfy your vision.
- Strengthen your body and spirit with daily movement, in such a way that you sense the waves of your own rhythm with the consistency of fluidity. Daily movement, mostly LYT flows and walks, are part of my routine, unchanging as the tidal pulls. My plan this year is to add more weighted exercise to bolster my bone density, and you are helping me by calling for more weighted classes! I have given myself time to add this to my own routine. Wherever you are in your own movement practice, be patient and consistent. (I must shamelessly plug our ‘Build Your Capacity’ six-week program, which is amazing for creating or strengthening habits with a smart and sustainable movement routine!)
- Open your mind to possibilities, to new ways of thinking, observing, and listening. I promise that the regular movement practice will help you feel open to these efforts.
- Be tender with your feelings because only you are experiencing them while also being courageous to shift from identifying with them in such a way that hinders you.
- Don’t wait for the unexpected event or person to throw you off course or to enlighten you to how you might be living on autopilot. Through challenge, whether in your movement practice or other physical and mental hobbies, we will all build the resilience to handle ourselves and to be brighter participants in life.
I hope this offered you anything you might be needing in this fresh new calendar year. Thank you for making this past year so gratifying and know that I am pulling for you!
