My 2022 Word isn’t a Resolution
I don’t choose a word for the year. Every year, a word chooses me.
The first time it happened was in 2012. Beginning in November the word “Hope” kept coming up in conversation. In December the mentions increased, and being the logophile that I am I wanted to do a whole etymological word study on it, but I didn’t have time. So when January first came and someone somewhere said something about choosing a word for the year, I thought, “Why not?”
So hope became my word for 2013.
I learned so much more about hope that year than any word study could have taught me.
Then in 2014 it happened again: a subtle theme in November followed by so much repetition of a particular word in December that I could not ignore it if I tried. This time the word was “Go.”
So it has gone, year after year:
Hope, the year I learned to act on my dreams.
Go, the year I moved a thousand miles away for a job that involved traveling at least one weekend each month.
Love, the year I met my husband, though I didn’t recognize him then.
Adventure, the year I quit my job and went back to entrepreneurship.
Together, the year I got married.
Excitement, the year our daughter was born and we lost our home and possessions and nearly our lives to toxic mold.
Course, the year our son was born and we learned to “stay the course” as we rebuilt.
Vision, the year I truly learned to dream.
Openness, the year I let myself begin to receive those dreams.
Which brings us to the present year: teetering on the edge between 2021 and 2022. What is this year’s word? I’m not absolutely sure yet, but I have my suspicions. There have been a few themes this November and December and one in particular is rising to the surface. Come New Year’s Day we will see if I am right.
Because I don’t choose my word for the year. I never do. It always chooses me.
At the beginning of each year since 2013 I have set out in January with a word on my banner…