Why I’m Wishing You an Unpredictable Year Ahead

Even if you’re craving familiarity, try this

The global pandemic caused many of us to crave safety and routine. Predictability. Having our lives shaken up can make us long for familiarity. It might seem counterintuitive, given the last few years, to wish others an unpredictable year. However, there are good reasons why unpredictability can be a bonus in our lives.

When I was younger, I used to struggle to find my identity. It seemed like everyone else slotted neatly into the assigned, prescribed high school groups. Jock. Geek. Freak. Rebel. It felt sometimes as if the Breakfast Club roles had all been handed out before I got there. I couldn’t quite find my place. I was an athlete who read all the time, a thinker with a quick wit. I didn’t care about being popular, but I also didn’t strive to be intentionally unpopular either. I kept trying on interests and personas to see if one of those would emerge as the primary one.

Later, I planned my life down to the minute. I decided who I was going to be and what I was going to do, and I followed that path. The slightest upset or detour to my path created massive heartache and frustration. I knew the saying about best-laid plans — I just didn’t think it applied to me.

But all the dominoes I lined up so carefully throughout my life came tumbling down. One by one, the things I had worked hard for fell over. The career I’d studied for, became licensed in, and used as part of my identity ended. The marriage I thought would last forever went up in flames. The house I’d planned for and made a home — gone. I had to start over, and this time I did it with two small children depending on me.

Who I was no longer became the question. How I would survive took all of my energy. I tried again to plan. I went forward with the best of intentions, but I still let practicality lead the way. Some things went right. More went wrong.

But here’s the point of this whole story: some of the best things in my life were unanticipated joys. I was determined to keep my heart safe, and instead I fell headlong, wholly, and spectacularly in love. I wasn’t perfect, but I loved with everything I had, and when it was over, I knew I couldn’t have given any more to it than I did. No regrets.

I went skydiving — twice. Something younger-me never would have done. My fear of heights was no match for the beauty of the skies, and I allowed myself an adventure I wouldn’t even have considered the year before. It was an impulse that became a joy I would seek out again.

I wonder often how I came to be exactly where I am today. To have become a writer of books. A person who loves a pottery wheel and puttering around in my garden up to my elbows in dirt. A woman who runs sometimes and cycles at other times and enjoys stand-up paddle boarding. A person who is planning for a coop of chickens to join our busy little family. This isn’t the person I thought I would be — and I’m loving every single minute of it.

What’s funny is that an earlier version of me might have looked down on some of my choices. Living in a small town was never my plan. But here I am — enjoying the life I’ve built in a community I love.

There’s a lot to be said for an unpredictable life. It leaves room for a little magic and spontaneity — to have an impulse and follow it. To imagine that our identities and interests aren’t locked in for life but can grow, change, and evolve beyond our wildest dreams.

Some unpredictable things, of course, are hard. Job loss. Illness. Loss. But even those things can be a catalyst for change. We don’t have to be grateful for it, but we do have the ability to look at anything and everything as an opportunity. We’re given challenges. What, then, will we do with them?

I have struggled over the last few months, but it has reminded me of my incredible resourcefulness and strength. I’m not happy about the struggle, but it’s gratifying to know that I can and will do what it takes to survive and take care of my family. I keep going and keep looking for ways to make even the struggle seem like a grand adventure.

So, when I’m saying I wish everyone an unpredictable year ahead, what I’m really saying is this:

• Leave room for a little magic.
• Open your heart to the possibilities and to love.
• See the humor in even the struggle.
• Choose to grow joy even in the toughest of conditions.
• Keep going even when you think you can’t.
• Allow yourself to try something new.
• Allow yourself to let go of something that no longer appeals to you or aligns with your life.
• Say yes to more rest.
• Say no to more obligations.
• Laugh, often.
• Love hard.
• Be more present.
• Look for beauty everywhere.

Life is filled with magic if we’re looking for it. I spent hours today moving gravel, one shovel load at a time, into a barrel and then relocating it. I’m a little tired and a lot sore, but I also feel fulfilled. I know that the grunt work of today makes tomorrow’s dreams possible. Instead of complaining, I turn up the music and haul another load.

It might not seem like magic to anyone watching. It might not sound like magic to anyone reading. It might not even seem that unpredictable for a gardener to be working in the garden. But the magic is in the movement, the intention, the wind against my skin, the sound of the shovel scraping against the gravel, my body showing its strength, my mouth singing off-key to a tune.

I didn’t think I would be this person, on this land, living this life. And here I am. Because I made room. Because I stayed open. Because I gave it a try. So, I hope this year, you try something new and embrace the whimsy of an interest you’ve never considered before. I wish you love you never saw coming and laughter that sends tears running down your cheeks. I wish you joy in the smallest details and love every single day this year.