Oh boy. What a year 2020 was. I don’t know about you all, but 2020 was probably the worst year in my life thus far. I remember on New Year’s Eve in 2019, I told myself that 2020 was going to be better. After starting a job I was less than ambivalent about and feeling like I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and all of my ambitions I did have at the beginning of 2019. As much as I wanted to be the sole hand that steered the outcome of my year, ultimately the fate of 2020 was never in my control.

To say our entire lives were upended is a bit of an understatement. And yet, I count myself lucky that I can sit here and write this when so many people can’t. But the one thing I learned from 2020 was just how resilient I could be. Throughout the year, I experienced loss and grief, but I also experienced the infinite support of my friends, faced my deepest insecurities and came out whole on the other side, and after all of that I’m surprisingly optimistic about this upcoming year.

I never did New Year’s Resolutions, but this year I made myself a list of hopefully attainable goals. Aside from the usual ‘get good grades’ and ‘revise your book’, this year’s goal is to exercise patience.

I am a deeply impatient person. Not about the little things like waiting in line, commercials during T.V. shows, yelling at your sister to get out of bed so we could get boba (okay maybe I’m impatient about that one). But mostly, I’m impatient with myself.

Everything feels like it should’ve been done ages ago. I should be a bestselling author, playwright, and screenwriter with a T.V. show in the works by now. A kickass book should be written and ready for publishing within a few months, setting a routine should happen right away, my abs should magically appear after a week of working out. Bouncing back from the grief of losing a friend should happen right away. I wanted so badly to get things right the first time. And I wanted to be done with the things that made me uncomfortable. I desperately wanted to get to the point where everything finally felt complete.

And you know, for a little while it did feel like everything in my life was finally going right. For the first time, I knew who I was and what I wanted out of my life. I felt like I was on the right path, that I was complete.

The thing about change is that it happens even when you don’t expect it to, when you don’t want it to.

This year, I am giving myself permission to be uncomfortable. To take time, as much time as I need to get things right no matter how many tries it takes. There is no goal of completeness anymore. Just patience. Patience that everything you’re working towards is going to come to fruition in some shape or form, even though it feels like it’ll never happen. Patience that the fruits of my labor will grow from the seeds I’ve planted, someday.

January, the first month of a new year, felt a lot like planting those seeds. Now, it’s time to work the land.

-RP