Reflecting on a Word | CONNECT, 2017

Last year, my word was CONNECT.
“People over Practice” was my motto, which meant that for the entirety of 2017, I was going to prioritize relationships—community, friends, family—over my personal development.
I was going to mindfully loosen up on my strict disciplines. 
Yoga, meditation, study, writing—the practices that have filled my days for over a decade—were going to take a backseat for a while to quality time connecting with others.

To some of you, this might sound like a no-brainer, but for this introverted, hard-headed, solitude-loving Cancer Crab, it was a foreign concept. And scary.

It was hard from the get-go.

As full of loved ones as my life has been, I’ve always been loner—in worse times, an isolator.
I’ve never been a team-player or a social butterfly.
I prefer to work alone, and figure things out on my own.
I mean, I’m Cancer, for crying out loud! I like to stay in my shell. It’s pretty, comfortable, and just the way I like it in there.
Going IN and staying IN is my thing.

But my mission in 2017 was to challenge that.
I worried that maybe I was missing out on a whole world of community love and support by focusing so single-mindedly on my own inner journey.
Was I going to look back on my life in 30 years, cold and alone (no, the drama is not exaggerated), and wish I had spent more time with people, and less time with Triangle Pose?

So I started breaking up my routines.
I would skip yoga if it meant spending time with a loved one.
I put personal projects on the back burner in order to plan meaningful events for friends.
I loosened up on my self-care rituals in order to be more available to care for others.
At times during 2017, my mission to CONNECT really scored. There were moments when I felt like I was on top of the world—joyful, purposeful, helpful, and truly connected.
I planned the baby shower of the century for one friend.
I officiated the wedding ceremony of two friends (I literally connected them for life!).
I reconnected with my grandmother, who I’ve never had much of a relationship with, and started pen-palling with her via email.
I made it my mission to show up when I said I would show up—no more flaking—and staying true to my commitments to others felt right, empowering.

At other times, however, I felt totally off-balance, confused, tired, frustrated.
I spent a lot of time feeling guilty for “giving up” the disciplines I’d worked so diligently to establish. I’d often find myself missing the solitude and clarity of a one-track mind and life. My heart would throb for it.
Then my phone would buzz—group text! Dinner tonight.
“Yes. Ok. I’ll be there.”

In the moments where all I wanted was to crawl back into my shell, I’d remind myself of my word, and of all the reasons I was trying to CONNECT.
Unity. Healing. Community. Joy. Love. 
“What good are all the heart-openers, if they don’t make me more open-hearted?” I’d ask myself. I was really adamant about this one, believing that an open-hearted life looked like an open-door policy, where anyone could come and go as they pleased. 
I’d work around them.

Anyway, the irony of my whole year is that on the last day of 2017, I felt lonelier than I have since my goth adolescence. I felt isolated, tired, lost, out of balance, depressed, and alone.
These are not easy words for me to write. I immediately want to censor myself. 
“Don’t be a crybaby.”
“A lot of others have it worse than you.”
“You just expect too much.”
“Do you want an award?”
“What if you make others feel bad?”
My inner-critic wants to delete the sad words. Gloss over it. Put a positive-vibes-only spin on the year. Take the blame. Avoid possible discomfort for myself and others.
But.
We have to be able to talk about what it feels like to realize that by doing the “right” thing, we’ve totally missed the mark.
I have to be able to say that I spent a year doing my very best to mindfully and meaningfully take care of and support others, only to be left feeling untaken care of, and unsupported.
I feel like I missed the mark.
And I know why:
The mark I was aiming for wasn’t my own.
I don’t know who’s it was, or why I thought it was the “right” thing to do to suddenly try turning myself into an extroverted party-planning machine, but looking back on things now, it seems like it was the result of my eternal struggle to prove that I’m “ok.” 
That I can play well with others. 
That I’m not selfish. 
That I don’t see myself as “better than.” 
That I can be a really good friend. 
That I’m not weird.
That I belong. 
That I’m not going to end up cold and alone.

But cold and alone is exactly how I felt after spending a year answering to others, rather than myself.
I know it’s a matter of “balance.” 
I know that there is a difference between “connecting” and “giving,” and that somewhere in the middle of 2017 I got the two all muddled.
I know that I am capable of finding and maintaining a happy medium between my inner and outer lives.
I’ll work to achieve that. Someday.
For now, though, I’m heading back IN. I’m going to get to know myself again. I’m going to devote myself to the work that makes me feel the most powerful, alive, and truly CONNECTED.
I’m going to do my own thing.
And if anyone ends up joining me along the way, YAY.