It’s that time again: everyone is inundated from all angles with an onslaught of self-betterment prescriptions, resolutions, and the slew of social media ads promoting cure-alls to your body, mind, or life woes. It’s self-betterment season!
As someone who tends to be very goal-oriented, resolutions tend to work well for me. That said, I know they don’t work for all people, and that for many, participating in self-betterment season is a surefire way to feel even worse about yourself. It can also set you up for disaster: you set a resolution, you start to forget the resolution, then you feel even worse about yourself than when you started. So no, I’m not about creating self-set traps. There’s no need for that.
What I have found useful is to consider what I’ve learned, observed, or enjoyed in the past year. This is where the more nebulous things begin to take shape and materialize — not the race you ran or the promotion you got, but rather, the grey space of living where you created habits or practices to achieve something, to learn something, or simply to bring yourself joy. I like this better than the requisite lists of achievements and accomplishments, because it shows how we’ve grown as humans — how we’ve expanded, how we’ve changed. How we’ve evolved. That’s the exciting stuff, at least for me.
Another thing I like about this is that it gives me a chance to consider how I might build on that growth in the next year. I’m not going to bore you with the detritus of my list, but there was a theme that really stood out to me: I really want to reconnect with my true self, and I’m happiest when she is fully present. There is a lot of “musts” in life that can distract from this — career, work, family, making sure the dishes are done, the dogs are fed, the dinner is made, the trash is out, etc. The list goes on, and we all have one. But I would like to find a way around this list and back to myself.
Another realization: I have spent a large part of my sentient, self-reflective life trying to wish parts of myself away, to silence what’s become loud, to ignore what’s too painful to deal with. I’ve spent so much time fixating on things like perceived flaws (physical and otherwise) that I have sometimes, I feel, missed the point of living, have missed so many moments of joy. I’ve given up agency. I’ve given up the driver’s seat sometimes. These are things that I’d like to change going into 2023: for the personal things (writing, reading, gardening), family, friends, and adventures and experiences.
I think to do these things, I need to become better at gentle, effective self-interrogation. This is more about me getting to know me better, checking in with myself more frequently, and understanding what feels good and open and expansive vs. constricting. I want to say “yes” more to the right things (as in, the things that feel right to me, in the moment), and “no” to the things that deplete me or disregard my boundaries.
The older I get, the more finely tuned these internal instruments become, these personal barometers that I’ve identified, observed, and learned how to listen to. It feels like one of the greatest gifts from the self, to the self — the ability to signal and communicate, the invitation to turn inward and listen, to converse.
So — how does one interrogate the self gently? I’m my own worst critic, so I’m the first to admit how challenging that can be. One thing I’ve found useful is to practice detachment when asking myself questions. Not to come with judgement or preconceived notions. Instead, remaining unattached from the process and any answers that may arise. Letting curiosity lead the way, rather than emotion or expectation.
How do I feel? What would make me feel better? Is the bad feeling so bad after all, or is there a false story I’m telling myself here? How might I recast the story? All good questions, all just examples. I suppose it’s less about the exact questions, and more about the spirit of the questioning itself (e.g., are you being gentle, open, and kind with yourself?)?
That’s what I’m going to practice this year: gentle self-interrogation.
Wishing you a happy new year, and may you go into 2023 gently —
Ashley