I’ve always had a rather persistent defiant streak. While certainly subdued at times, it’s always there and will arise when I’m particularly pushed, frustrated, or have simply chosen to assert myself.

We all have expectations and I don’t think anyone’s complaining about an opinion deficit in the world. Opinions aren’t inherently good or bad, and personal preferences are certainly important and helpful in guiding our discerning choices.

External opinions and expectations can get both heavy and restrictive when they begin to influence and impact our behavior in ways that deviate from our internal guidance.

In some cases, the external noise will drown out or mask whatever internal guidance is trying to speak to us.

As someone who’s naturally empathic and intuitive, it’s easy for me to pick up on cues from others. It takes time in quiet and solitude for me to recalibrate to my inner voice, to integrate and sharpen my focus or choices.

I’ve been accused of “running away” or avoiding things. The actual truth is more that I run with my feelings and emotions, allowing inspirations to arise and frustration to dissipate.

I’m certainly still running with shards of grief, although they are decidedly less jagged. They no longer pierce me as suddenly, and in some ways there are shimmers of light becoming more visible.

In that still subtle shimmering light, there is new growth, possibilities and pathways. Ones that I never would have imagined even considering a few years ago. And yet…there is something to at least some of them that keeps beckoning for me to explore.

For a long time, external opinions and expectations have been a weight around my shoulders. Exploration and possibility can be highly challenging while wrapped tightly within their grasp.

Creativity, possibility and potential may have been there all along, but now I’m much more willing to consider and begin exploring them.

One of the many benefits of quiet and solitude is the heightened awareness of things that aren’t necessarily as loud or demanding as so much in our everyday lives.

The things that won’t necessarily shout, but prefer to whisper while extending invitations to explore, engage, or just witness…sometimes the exceptionally ordinary, sometimes the surprisingly exquisite.

Picking up threads has been a bit lonely but necessary for my shattered heart to heal. It’s also been an endeavor in re-asserting myself, undoing and shifting trajectories that weren’t by my design.

The power and ability to more fully and deeply trust myself has been one of the most difficult battles I’ve ever fought.

As someone who’s innately and deeply empathetic, it’s been an interesting process these past few years of learning to extend that empathy to myself.

Now it seems I’m being invited (nudged, pulled?) into engaging more fully and deeply with the people around me. Without any guarantees, playbook or plan.

Certainly with scars, insecurities and doubts. But also with a much deeper understanding and appreciation of myself than ever before. Without a need for a specific destination, and with a new willingness to explore and engage.

The season of annual renewal and new beginnings arrives once again, with vivid reminders that regardless of how long the winter lasts, a new season will eventually emerge.

Coming back to life or emerging from hibernation aren’t necessarily glamorous and in my experience it can be painful, surprising and unpredictable.

It feels like picking up threads that are both intimately familiar and at the same time, completely new.

Regardless of how new or different the details may be, the threads of conversation, communication, running and writing are ever-present.

Some carry memories that haunt me, while also extending invitations to continue writing and creating new stories, pathways and connections. Even and especially when I don’t know where they may lead.

I am most certainly not the same person I used to be, and I’m surprisingly okay with that.

I’ve never really been a fan of New Year’s resolutions. They’ve just never held any resonance with me. If anything, I’ve found them cold and off-putting.

A few years ago I started experimenting with a different version, using a word or phrase for the year. Rather than a resolution or destination type of intention, this feels more creative and possibility-focused to me.

I’ve been known to revise or edit a yearly intention midway through, giving myself permission to adjust and adapt as I feel it’s necessary.

While considering what intentions I want to focus on for 2022, it’s hard not to be reminded of the crap show that’s been the past few years. So maybe it’s not surprising that I’m currently focused on a gentler and less structured approach.

There are certain words that resonate very strongly with me. Claiming them as personal touchstones feels both powerful and gentle; they are each reminders of strength and comfort.

Having personal touchstone words is a simple way for me to remind myself of what I choose to focus on, and what I want to continue creating in my life. I’m also free to edit and revise them as necessary, which lifts the pressure and allows me to lean into what’s most meaningful for me.

This also feels somehow less daunting and more relaxed than a “resolution” type approach to the new year. It feels much more within reach, and while not necessarily easy or simple in any given moment, it feels foundational and creative.

I recently heard “setbacks” described as launching points and along those same lines, the way I’m approaching 2022 is more of an onward progression. Allowing myself to just lean toward the things I want to focus on, acknowledging and celebrating progress along the way. The spiral paths of both healing and growth are very real.

My current email is: dianewriter423@gmail.com

November, we meet once again. This month and I have a history of rather powerful memories, and each year it is a time that invites reflection.

Taking the time to pause allows me to both remember and appreciate. Things that are gone and things that are new. It’s a time that is both achingly bitter and gently, surprisingly, sweet.

,Once upon a time in November, I ended my marriage. It remains a symbol of freedom and liberation, a reclaiming of myself. In an intensely personal way, this month holds reminders of both brutal and beautiful moments.

Isn’t that so often the paradox of living and life experience? The brutal and the beautiful can exist, not in isolation, but in sometimes surprising ways alongside one another.

Ending my marriage left me in a wildly uncomfortable unknown with no clear map of the future. Not unlike the terrain where I stand now.

It is somehow comforting to know that I did in fact navigate that journey into, through and beyond divorce. While I didn’t realize it at the time, that experience would build strength that continues to show up when I need it most.

My current email is: dianewriter423@gmail.com

Somehow, through and despite all of the recent change and loss…there is a ring that remains on my left hand. It reads simply: begin anywhere.

I had no idea just how prophetic and haunting this ring would become. It is a daily reminder with a depth of meaning that words fail to convey. A reminder that is both intensely bitter and somehow, in often subtle ways, still sweet.

One thing that has not changed is my appetite for reading material. Memoirs in particular continue to deeply inspire and resonate. Trent Preszler’s Little and Often left me breathless with: “I knew how hard it was to grow back after being cut down.” Well. How gut-wrenchingly accurate.

Beginning is a choice, and maybe the most meaningful ones are more of an ongoing and continual choosing rather than a one-time deal…part of me hates even considering that.

There is so very much that I would change if I could, things I would undo and alternate pathways I would take. But I can’t. And so, as excruciating as it sometimes feels, I continue to make the decision to begin where I am.

My current email is: dianewriter423@gmail.com