how I want to feel this year

Photo by Karl Hörnfeldt on Unsplash

I.

I want to feel awake when the sun hits my face, when rain falls on my body. I want to be the first to undress at the lake, the ocean, on the bank of the river near my childhood home. Whether midnight or high noon, whether frost dots the shore or flowers bloom, I want to swim deep and far and feel my lungs explode underwater. I want to be re-baptized every time I dunk my head, to feel reborn. 

II.

I want to feel pleasure in my body without the afterthoughts of shame. I want to be held and kissed and feel fireworks when skin brushes skin. I want to eat more butter, slathering it on every corner of my toast because it tastes better this way. I want to make choices based on pleasure and presence and the fact that time is fleeting. 

III.

I want to feel content with what I have and at peace in my home. I want to feel held and nourished in my space. I want to hear the birds in the morning and say a prayer of gratitude for the tree that holds its leaves through the winter. I want to feel rested when the sunrise dances on my walls and exhausted when starlight filters through the blinds. I want to dance and play music and light candles because a space deserves as much.

IV.

I want to feel hopeful for the future. I want to feel capable of holding grief and joy in the same hand. I want to feel optimistic about the world and believe we all have the capacity to be good to each other. I want to feel enraged and moved to action when this is stolen from others, believing instead that our collective joy can outweigh our collective pain. I want to hope again, for longer than a moment. 

V.

I want to feel my age: not young, not old, but exactly the age I am. I want to feel uninterested in beauty trends and anti-aging advice. I want to look at my mother and see my future, look at my niece and see my past. I want to be okay with growing older while also being relieved to hand over my ID. I want to witness the lines deepen on my face without trying to erase them. 

VI.

I want to feel proud of my writing. I want to mess up, use too many metaphors, and wrestle with bad drafts until the words finally find their place. I want to own my voice and tattoo truth on my tongue. I want to finally believe it when I look in the mirror and say this is what you were made to do. 

VII.

I want to feel inspired by the things I see every day: the pink house on the corner, the thrifted artwork on my walls, my neighbor planting a garden in the backyard. I want to feel energized by the books and films I already own and love. I want to reread and rewatch until I notice something both familiar and new.

VIII.

I want to know what it feels like to stand firm through fire. I want to feel my heart shatter and heal a million times more than it already has. I want to feel pain from risk, from taking chances that end in heartbreak. I want to feel brave and scared at the very same time and choose to leap anyway.

IX.

I want to feel rooted in my city, to retrace my steps on the same streets. I want to feel the warmth of familiarity at my favorite coffee shop, the magic of knowing how to get around without my phone. I want the weight of my body to be anchored by willpower and gravity alike. I want to feel my roots expanding into fertile soils, plunging deeper and deeper into one place.

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Watch: This post was inspired by this reel and reflection from

Jess Janz

. It’s so beautiful and captures what I imagine many of us are feeling about resolutions and the new year. I hope you’ll go watch it and follow her writing. Additionally, I love everything

Taegan MacLean

creates and his latest short film about our lives on the internet is no exception. It’s fascinating and so well done. Give it a watch here.

Read: I finished Severance by Ling Ma and have given it five stars—it’s one of those books that gets better with every chapter and is best read in long sittings. I also listened to Jedidiah Jenkin’s new memoir Mother, Nature on Audible (which I recommend since he reads it himself). Finally, I loved this piece by

Lauren Hough

and I’ve been enjoying writing and recommendations from

Maryn is Here

Listen: I’ve started putting together a playlist for winter, which I’ll be adding to over the next few weeks. If you want something moody for the cold weather, you can listen to it here. Below is a new favorite artist that I discovered via this unreal duet with Elyse Myers: