To begin again is such a blessing – an opportunity to revel in what may be hovering ahead on the horizon. But, it’s a blessing that sometimes gets a bad rap. I’ve had a few “starting over” seasons in my life, and I’ve noticed they tend to be heavily burdened with the failure or loss of whatever season came before. We steady our hands for a newness thrust upon us, like we’ve scribbled some errant message and, with a heavy sigh, had to tear out the page, wad it up and toss it behind us.
It’s different with a new year. Maybe it’s the predictability that makes the difference, but we seem to turn the page to January with much more acceptance. With more grace — for ourselves, for where we’ve been and where we’re going. We give ourselves permission to embrace something new. And, we celebrate the beginning, relishing the opportunity to retool and tweak life goals and daily decisions alike. The start of the new year offers an anticipated blessing of beginning again — the chance to bring forward what serves us and leave behind what may be holding us back. No strings attached.
I’m ready for that blessing in 2020. In many ways, 2019 was the year that got away from me. A blur. A whirl. Of activity and chasing time and trying to catch up. Trying to keep up.
It’s not that the year was bad. No, in fact, 2019 was a good year, filled with blessings. Expanded client contracts stretched me creatively and gave me more opportunities to do what I love. We checked off several things on our “need” and “wish” lists for much-anticipated redesigns and improvements to our 1949 home. Watching my children grow and embrace new passions this year gave me precious glimpses of the strong and independent souls they are becoming. A growing confidence in my roles as single mother, small business owner, bread winner and home owner has brought a deeper peace to my own heart about who we are as a family.
Still, 2019 felt like a year whirring by and me unable to put my finger on the wheel to slow the movement. Never able to gain traction on goals and things I planned to do. Losing time with my children as they’re pulled more and more into their own activities and circles of friends. Struggling to get my head above water with projects. In general, just feeling as if I’ve lost time.
As a result, I have been eager to embrace the power-down of the holiday season and the welcomed reset of a brand new year — a new year that seems even more celebration-worthy as the start of a new decade! After a milestone birthday back in October, this year begins the decade of my 50s, and in a few months, I’ll mark the 10-year anniversary of my business, Small Pond Graphics.
In reflecting on 2019 and my hopes for the new year, I realize that many of my frustrations with 2019 stem from a topsy-turvy focus. In my frenzy to keep up with tasks and activities, I’ve found myself over-run by “doing” the urgent, and the intention that comes from “being” somehow crowded out. I’ll be honest. When I think about a new year, I don’t want resolutions. The thought makes me tired. And grumpy. And frustrated all over again. I don’t want anything else to do. I don’t want any more goals. Or the tasks that must be followed to achieve them. I want just the reverse of last year’s frustration. Rather than a life and home perpetually defined by the next most urgent activity, I want a life and home of intention. A year lived on purpose, with deliberate aim — where the “doing” emanates from who we want to be and what matters most to our life and family.
I want a simpler focus. As I seek to fully capture the blessing of this new beginning in 2020, I’ve settled on three areas where I want to place my focus — three checkpoints I want to be evident in the decisions I make about my time and energy this year.
Celebrating growth.
Elisha told me recently, “Mommy, we have to grow up.” It’s a truth every parent faces again and again in raising little humans. This past year, my children moved squarely into the pre-teen and teenage stages (that slam dance of parenting), and I’ve found myself in an unsteady balance of grieving the loss of childhood, navigating new independence and ideas, and really, just trying to keep up. They are changing. Our routines are changing. Our traditions are changing. Our family dynamics are changing. It’s sometimes exciting, sometimes scary, and often emotional for everyone. I want to celebrate their growth, not begrudge it, and I want them to know I celebrate it.
Yes, traditions matter. They are part of what makes home the grounding backdrop of our lives. But, as we move into the new year and gain better footing in these new phases, I want to make sure our traditions serve our family and not vice versa. I don’t want to begrudge my children the opportunity to change and grow at every opportunity. To change with grace, pulling forward what knits us together. I want to leave room for our traditions and routines to evolve as we evolve, allowing my children to change and grow at their own pace and toward their own vision of who they want to be — to follow their own path of becoming.
Valuing stillness and quiet.
With social media notifications, ever-present digital devices, constant connectivity, more and more options for things to do, and continually packed work and school schedules, the pull toward noise and motion seems greater than ever. This year, I want to slow the chase of the crowded urgent and create space for the restorative disciplines of stillness and quiet. I want to build it into my work routines, where the hustle ideology that’s so prevalent in creative businesses demands constant production, constant sharing and constant evaluation of all of the above. I want to build it into our family routines, where the cultural fear of missing out drives us to more and more activities, more and more entertainment, and more and more channels of information.
I want us to embrace the comfort of our own thoughts, and the creativity inspired when they have the time and space to germinate. I want us to crave the natural conversations that arise when we find ourselves with nothing to do. I want us to experience the rest and refreshing that happens when our minds have uncluttered time to recharge.
Making time.
I didn’t create very much in 2019. Sure, I did lots of client work. In fact, the last year seems like a complete flurry of activity. But, I didn’t create many new things. I kept adding things to my idea list, but they’ve mostly been left unexplored, crowded out by so many other things that just seemed to fill the time. The same is true for some of the places we’ve said we wanted to go. That book I told Travis I would read. That recipe Maggie and I talked about trying. If there’s one thing the frustrations of 2019 taught me, it’s that time will never just present itself. To save our hopes and interests for “some time” or “when we have time” is to relegate them to unexplored or never. No, chasing hard after dreams requires making time.
Time is our greatest currency, our scarcest resource. Not money. Not even energy. No, it’s time. We can never actually “make” more of it. But, we can choose to spend it in ways that consciously reflect what really matters to us.
It would be easy to insert a giant “to do” list here, complete with all the things we want to accomplish or experience this year — what to make time for. But, I’m resisting that. I guess my desire for my own heart in 2020 is to value my own dreams enough to give them time. And likewise, to shore up how much I value that new design idea from Maggie or Travis’s interest in my opinion on his favorite book series or that Elisha wants to see a new movie with his family. If I look below the “do” in all those things, they reveal a simple desire for time and attention and sharing what matters to each of us. This year, I want to shore up the will to lay aside my typical notion of what “has” to be done, and chase the dream, follow the trail of curiosity, indulge in the giving of attention. I want to have the courage to make time, using this scarcest resource in ways that strengthen bonds, stem regret and yield lasting joy.
A new decade is here! A new opportunity to recharge, refresh and refocus our hearts, and I’m grateful for a chance to begin again. I’m sure the “to do” lists will come and the goals, but for now I’m focused on the simplicity of these three things I hope to make a part of who I am as a mom, as a designer, as a friend, and who we are as a family. I hope these intentions will help us experience the full blessing this new beginning can bring. Happy New Year.
Hello & welcome! I’m Haley Montgomery, and I’m the designer and owner of 
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