The shortest distance between two points*

I’ve been thinking lately about linear things—especially now, in January, when our calendar turns over to a new year and the cycle of counting days, months, and years begins again. We humans seem to like measuring things. We mark time, anniversaries, holidays, property—the list is endless, really. There’s a kind of dependability and efficiency in this straightforward way of marking our lives.

And yet, there’s also a sense of certainty and possession that can come with this kind of mark-making—one that can take something away from a more meandering, embracing or present way of living each day. I’m not suggesting we bend straight lines or abandon deadlines, schedules, or birthday parties. I’m simply wondering how useful this patterned way of seeing things really is when it comes to the quality of the life we’re living.

What if I didn’t make a New Year’s resolution on January 1, and instead asked myself each day: What is most needed to care for my wellbeing today? What if I stopped counting my birthdays and simply enjoyed each day I’m alive, treating it as the gift it is? What if, instead of defending my borders—whatever they might be—I leaned into, appreciated, and met this moment as it is, in all its complexity? What if I loosened my grip or widened my perspective to include elements of life that don’t fall into a known order?

“What if” is a generous question to ask ourselves, especially when we’re facing unrealistic or habitual expectations.

So this year, I’m not making New Year’s resolutions. Instead, I’m waking up each morning and asking myself, What is offering me the chance to feel most alive today?

Then I’ll get to the emails…

*Field note: A straight line—but straight isn’t the only way to move.