New Year Letter (2023)

An additional copy of this letter was published on Tricky Existence's blog: Published Here.

Hi friends,

For those of you who might be reading one of my new year letters for the first time; it is so nice to see you. I mean that. It is a deep-rooted gratitude practice for me to create a card and write a letter to mail out to my loved ones to welcome in the new year. The new year feels significant to me as it lands in the middle of a lot of personal trauma anniversaries and marks the descent out of the moody winter season. At this point in the season, I always feel like I am a warrior putting on my armor to charge the rest of the cold, gray days.

It brings me profound joy to send this annual letter to my close loved ones and to update those significant from my past. It feels like I’m practicing the honor I feel for allowing me to be part of their lives. It is important to me to create this connection with a physical piece of mail, as physically sorting and addressing the package brings up fond memories and feelings for each person I am writing to. This year, however, we are doing the best we can and we are not judging ourselves for it, so please know that you taking time to even glimpse at this virtual post is meaningful and intentional to me. Please, feel free to connect through a comment, call, text, email, and know that if you’ve clicked on this post, there is a good chance you have crossed my mind often.

This year has been let down after loss after laughing to keep from crying after shitstorm after dumpsterfire after you’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now. I’m not even being dramatic when I say this. I am writing this letter on a day filled with so much anxiety that I just texted my friend, “I feel like an alien in the wrong body.” That sentence is my year in review. If you don’t understand that sentence, bless you. To provide further evidence, I reached a point mid year where I gave my plants to a friend and chopped my hair as short as it’s ever been just to stop being responsible for more than I could handle.

I can physically feel the tension and alertness in my body most days. The downside of improving my mindfulness skills is that my anxiety, and my inner fixer, has access to the same toolbox. I have cursed my sobriety on many occasions.

Let me explain. My physical health wreaked havoc. I started to notice a change in my body around May 2022, but did not understand the severity of what I was experiencing until December 2022. In January, working out became incredibly painful, and by February, I could barely make it through a workday. Cue the hours in medical offices, exhausting self-advocacy, countless needles, invasive testing, inconclusive results, failed treatments, and rising credit card payments with each bill in the mail. Are you seeing the supercut I’m putting together here? Even though the proof is written on the page, some motherfuckers still had the audacity to allude to it all being in my head.

It was as if I wasn’t at my very best, steady incline before this all came crashing down. I was in full hot girl summer mode and it launched me into sick girl fall/winter/spring/summer/fall/winter. I felt jealousy for the first time. I felt like I was watching others live the life I had put in the work for and as gross as jealousy feels, the judgment of myself for it made it worse. I had no control or understanding of my changing body. Every single attempt I made at feeling better or improving my circumstances was a crash and burn. I felt like I was watching a prime time dramatic tv series. Every aspect of my life changed from the year prior. I drew my closest friends closer and isolated from the rest, I canceled vacations I had been looking forward to for a year or more, my work contract got canceled and I found myself unemployed, I moved twice in debilitating pain to find the most supportive living environment, I was spending the vast majority of days in bed, I depleted my savings. I was watching the fall of an empire. Okay, now I am getting a little dramatic, but I think I’ve earned it and even if I haven’t, drama is simply my essence.

I feel like a lot of you really know me, so it shouldn’t surprise you that I’ve spent this year “holding both truths,” but instead of the Libra’s Scales symbolism, I was looking and feeling more like Atlas. Anyways, what I am saying is that of course, as with any great story of war, there are victories in the battles. I’ve met myself with a newfound gentleness, comforted my inner critic, observed my self doubt, and navigated with that bold sense of self I was gifted at birth. I’ve laughed deep, genuine cackles, spent hours on FaceTime with the best friends spewing out how alone I feel if only to relieve myself of the pressure for a moment, and I’ve created beautiful poetry in the darkness. In fact, I am quite proud of the things I have created this year.

As I set intentions for this year, I pulled the Hermit out of my tarot deck and laughed. With the peak I was reaching at the time, it made no sense. I resisted and the universe called. The Hermit card presents the image of an old man walking in darkness with a lantern and walking stick. He represents withdrawing, introspection, and relying on inner knowledge. He is led by faithful trust in his spirituality and sometimes, depending on what you believe, he can represent loneliness and fear, but nonetheless, he is wise.

What’s the popular saying? When we plan, God laughs? There have been many times this year I’ve felt my guides and spirits are getting a laugh at my expense. Although, it is the kind of laughter you share with your siblings when it’s at your expense but in a very endearing way. I’ve genuinely felt so reassured through every single challenge that this was written for me well before I understood. Willing or otherwise, The Hermit knocked on my door and I had to follow. Somedays, I feel like I am The Hermit himself; other days, it feels as if he is guiding me through the darkness, carrying my fear and disappointment for me. There are days where I feel like I want to claw my way out to the sunshine, to the brightness, but I am reminded: it is not time. And yet, in the present, in the darkness, I’ve created a podcast together with my best friend on the basis of shared values, my friends took flights and long drives and opened their front doors to love me well, I’ve found creativity and body positivity through color analysis, I’ve danced at weddings and birthdays, and I’ve complained, cried, and wallowed both alone and together. And truly, I’ve never been more proud of my mental health never silencing my truth.

I was scrolling through my photos of this year and I was struck with sadness. With each image, I thought, “that was so hard.” Behind so many smiling faces, amazing memories, and bright photos, was a painful, uncomfortable climb to get there. To have limited joy behind genuine moments felt like a low blow from the universe. I’ve had a lot of time to contemplate the accessibility of joy this year. And how even with might and skill and perseverance, it feels like I am constantly reaching for something I just can’t grasp.

I think year is one of those that you only understand when you’re looking back at it from a distance. I will probably be in a birth chart reading years from now and the astrologer will ask, “Does the year 2022 mean anything significant to you?” I’ll stop myself right before I answer, “Yes, it’s the year I bought 3 matching oversized sweat sets in different colors,” and my eyes will open wide and the weight will lift like it does when you’ve had an epiphany and it will finally find its place on my bookshelf, but until then, I will be here reading and musing.

This year, I hope you get a break. I hope you get a chance to stop searching for the lessons and reasons and just be. I hope you get rest and relationship building and self trust and all the kind things that make this harsh experience a little less all-consuming. I hope even when it’s loud, you can make space to get quiet. Or lean into the loud. Whatever you need. I’ll meet you there.

-Jo

P.s. You know I wouldn’t forget to give you an update on our cats. Floyd failed two more grooms this year. I tried to groom him myself multiple times and it fractured our relationship and my psyche, so we are now grooming him under full sedation at the vet’s for twice the price. Speaking of price, River had quite the eventful fall and spent a few nights at the emergency vet clinic for a bladder stone with complications leading to us canceling our flights home and basically being in lockdown to observe Riv’s health so it didn’t take a sharp decline. Something was written in the stars for my household this year. But, I have not impulse purchased any cat toys and I did not get another kitten in June so I think I will chalk that up to a win.