Scaling back: A New Year's dissolution

Now what?

Happy New Year’s Eve, readers! And to those who, like me, were born in a year ending in four, are you planning your big birthday bash yet? It’s a big one, huh? How are you feeling about it?

The year 2023 was an interesting one for me. I was trying to get back into part time nannying after two years of being disabled by knee injuries, and had a series of small jobs that were quite challenging and, for one reason or another, did not last very long. I was also doing some new gig work as a graphic designer and social media manager that I really enjoyed. And I published a poetry collection comprising poems I’d been working on for many years.

But perhaps the main theme of the year for me was letting go. I’d been very active online for several years, building a platform, sharing my writing, and exploring creative ways of making art online, including writing an entire book on Twitter and drawing a Thanksgiving gathering that thousands of folks attended. But with the new ownership and changes at Twitter, I began to disengage and spend less and less time there, and on other platforms as well. My book sales dropped dramatically because of this, which was discouraging at first. And I also had to suspend my writing workshop, which was pretty sad.

But after putting a lot of work and love into my poetry book, Open Things, I began to wonder if I was done writing, at least for awhile. I felt…complete, in a way. Like I’d said everything I have to say, and explored the craft of writing as deeply as I’d wanted to. I’d written and published five books plus a guided journal—that’s a lot! And since promoting my work was becoming more and more hustle for less and less payoff, it seemed like a natural time to let go. Things were also opening up in other areas of my life, personally as well as professionally, and I was starting to feel the sort of fulcrum of my presence and attention shift to in-person interaction.

So, slowly, I began to let go.

Not that I’m not a writer anymore. I’m writing right now, for example, and I’m sure I’ll keep writing in other ways as well. But I also feel the need for other forms of creative expression—music and drawing and dance—and for more art that is collaborative and in-person. I’m trying to play my guitar and ukulele more, and to get friends together once a month to jam.

So it’s a letting go, but in order for other things to be let in. I have been imagining it as a posture of open hands, cupped to allow new things to flow into them, but not grasping to hold onto them. Open to whatever life might offer.

"it turns out life is full of open things / beautiful and spacious / ready for the asking and the taking"

from open things

I also got this word-of-the-year, awareness, from the radiant

Morgan Harper Nichols

, which I think ties in nicely. (You can get your own word from Morgan here.)

Here’s to 2024 being full of beautiful and spacious things, ready for the asking and the taking. And to paying attention so we will notice when those gifts are given to us, even if—maybe especially if—they look different than we were expecting.

With all my love,
Jessica

P.S. If you haven’t read my new book, Open Things, yet, I think it would make a great New Year’s gift to yourself! You can pick up a copy here!