Your year for what? Well, that depends on what you want it to be.
That's not a generalization on my part. It's a realization I've come to this last year that we all have different definitions for success. If we're being honest with ourselves, we all have different perspectives of what success would look like in our lives.
Heck, that description could change several times in your lifetime. I know it has in mine. For years I chased the idea that life would be fantastic if I were debt free, able to make a livable wage and had a certain type of body. And it might be, for someone else, but that's not my perspective now.
I worked hard to become debt free, worked even harder to shrink my gravitational pull (thanks to metabolism from the ice ages), and created what most would consider a fantastic income. Then I realized that it wasn’t the debt, the fluffy body, or even my income that kept me from feeling successful. It was me. Or, more accurately, my beliefs that I would have value when I accomplished those things. I would be and feel valid and intelligent.
“What’s your point, Vicki?”
My point is that if we keep waiting to feel a particular way, we will be doing more waiting than living.
I was doing some journaling this past weekend and felt like I got hit upside the head with a cosmic 2x4. I’ve been conscious that I want to live in gratitude, be present, and be curious about life, and I’ve been doing that, but I haven’t allowed myself to be part of the gratitude list.
Sound familiar? I haven’t been taking credit for all the hard work, emotional and physical, that I’ve done, and I haven’t been gracious to myself for doing it all with a genuine love for the human process.
I’d bet that you have some challenges with receiving the credit earned for your efforts too.
“Again, your point?”
Wow, you're tenacious. I like it!
The cosmic 2x4 was the message that what if I stopped waiting until certain things were accomplished to FEEL accomplished? What if I stopped playing down what I know and how successful (for me) my life is? What if I decided that this year was when living in full appreciation of my life and soul knowledge was, as they say, “lived out loud!”
What if 2023, a 7-year in numerology, is the year where all levels of integration were possible? Emotional, spiritual, physical, mental, and soul levels. Think of what life would feel like if we allowed that to happen for each of us individually and then collectively expand this fabulous universe.
“That sounds like a lot.”
Yup. It does, but what were you planning on doing anyway? Scrolling social media? Binge-watching a tv show that won’t matter by tomorrow? Reliving the regrets you’ve been carrying around for years? Lamenting about how you didn’t get the parents you wanted and deserved in this lifetime? Being so wrapped up in someone else’s success that you forgot to consider your own? Been there, my friend. Been there.
I’m not suggesting that we become so self-focused that we forget others—quite the opposite. I’m committing to and hope you join me this year in feeling so damn proud of who I am today that I live with the energy of amazement and joy. Living with truth, transparency, and total goofball energy! That can then become an inspiration, perhaps, for others to embrace their success formula.
I do hope you’ll join me as I discover what that means to me and how I can help even more people do it. I hope you’ll also join me in what is the shortest podcast I’ve ever recorded, where I lay out how I got to this feeling and the exact journal writing I did that busted open the what-if possibility. I also read a poem I received months ago that I felt too afraid to share. See? Transparency even when my knees are knocking in nervousness. This living thing is exciting!
So, ask yourself this; what if (with a lilt in your voice that suggests potential) 2023… if?
Rock on,
Vicki
P.S. If you’d like to have the transcript of the podcast or listen without using an app, click here!
P.S.S. You can enter my giveaway to win a coaching session with me. Go to my 200th episode or email Enrique to enter.
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