Stepping Into the Unknown and Reflections on Renewal

2023

My big discovery from this past year was the idea of our Word of the Year serving us as a refuge: a place to gain strength, comfort, and find our footing.

This year, I'm learning more about the subliminal effects these “words of the year” have. There is an essence planted deep within our soul, watered often on a subconscious level, that ultimately bears fruit in ways we don't even recognize or perceive. When we take the time to reflect, reread, reconsider, only then do we see what should have been more clear along the way.

My 2023 WOY was renewal. This theme played out in ways that reached far above and beyond how I imagined or expected, and none of it was due to conscious or intentional effort on my part. Although, after writing those words, that statement is only partially true. In reality, it ensued from intentional effort and actions, yet without any explicit attachment to the thematic word I stated as the refuge I needed for what was to come in 2023.

In December of 2022 as I looked into what the new year might contain, I felt the need to be renewed: to experience some version of renewal that would help make what was old new, to fix what was broken and make it whole, to revamp and revise the things that no longer served me or my family. There was a sense of the necessity to begin again.

How did that play out?
— in faith
— in family
— in community
— in work
— in support
— in expansion
— in new commitments

basically... in every way you would expect it to.

While renewal is a concept we often grasp or understand quite readily, it's a concept that actually feels quite different experientially. I think this is tied directly to the size or scale of the renewal that's experienced.

On a small scale, we can mistakingly relate the concept to being “refreshed,” like our experience of a good night's sleep. Or we might correlate it to that morning cup of coffee that renews our energy and focus for the day ahead. These examples only get at a piece of what renewal has to offer us.

As an entry point, renewal indicates we are aware that something needs to be, in essence, born again. It needs to be made new once more. How do you make something new? Well, the old has to die. While I don't intend to be overly dramatic or morbid, the reality of death is painful. And that is inherent to the idea of renewal. What in hindsight looks like renewal, in the moment feels like death (to a degree). This experience of death can look or feel like: separation, division, space, uncertainty, a break in what was, new concepts of what is, living with heightened tension, etc.

At no point in this past year, when I was experiencing versions of these feelings (alongside a host of other positive, uplifting, and encouraging feelings as well), did I think to myself: “Ah, this is me being renewed!” Renewal is a slow, plodding process of pain, death, and reconfiguration, well before any energy and encouragement bursts onto the scene.

Yet, that moment when you sit down with a warm beverage in hand, and think back on all that's transpired this last trip around the sun, there's a warmth that wells up inside as we see and better understand the reasons, the meaning, the purpose in it all, and better accept the things that don't make sense, or align with what we had hoped, desired, or even expected. I think that's renewal, or at least my version of it.

2024

So now that we are already two whole months into the new year (is time flying by faster than usual for you too?), let me muster a few jumbled thoughts on what the ten remaining months in 2024 might hold for me.

One of the most obvious parts of looking ahead at a new year is the element of unknowing that is forever a part of the future. We simply can't know what the year will hold, no matter how good we think we are at making predictions. This is what it means to be a time-bound human living on earth. There is a necessary acceptance that our vision is limited to the now.

Given the obviousness of this, it's strange to me the word that kept surfacing in my contemplation and consideration of what I needed to hold onto in the year ahead is the simple reality captured in the word: unknown.

My initial impression of this seed is the need to grow in my capacity for fully accepting the unknowability of the future. I have a strong tendency to plan, scheme, and strategize with regards to anything related to scheduling and calendar management. It borders on the edge of obsessive at times, and it can create an anxious energy within me that isn't helpful to myself or others around me.

This acceptance is intertwined with the idea of expectations. When I invest energy into planning, coordinating, or strategizing about what makes most sense and why, I end up creating a host of expectations, most of which are not communicated at all or, even worse sometimes, hinted at or passively implied. This creates conflict both internally and externally, and as life increases in complexity the older I become, the more this tendency can hinder my joy, presence, and fulfillment in life.

Another aspect of “unknown” that stands out to me now is the potential that exists in what isn't known about the future. What we are facing now, the things we may feel stuck in, the challenges that seem unbearable, or the obstacles that appear unmovable: these all can change in drastic and unexpected ways in the unknown future we will inhabit. As my wife always courageously states and believes: “the worst thing is never the last thing.” This can provide comfort and openness for what may be in store for us in 2024.

Finally, sitting with this word now allows me to remember and recenter on what is known and what is within my control now. While the unknown will always remain unknown (“tomorrow,” in essence, will never be more or less knowable than it is today), the present is always knowable and available to be fully embraced. To take it one step further, who I am, what I value, and why I'm here is a compass that can always be accessed. Growing in consistency with the grounding practices that produce confidence in what is known now can help me be more open, optimistic, and flexible with what's to come.

In that vein, I am hopeful for what 2024 will hold, walking forward with open hands to the possibilities that await, and I’m excited to reflect on all that happens during our current lap around the sun.