2020 – My Word Of The Year

Turns out, there are a lot of Really Good Words. There are words so powerful and complex that they become short poems when spoken out loud. Others words are light and lyrical. Choosing a word of the year provides you with endless options to grow, to be, to explore.

I thought a lot about choosing a word of the year, and at first, decided it was too resolution-like, and that I’d skip it and lurk silently to see what others had to say. Maybe I’d copy somebody else’s word or live the year without participating in this strange resolution-like trend.

So much of what I’m proud of was never declared on the final day or the first day of a year. Choosing the right dog for our family. Advocating for my son. Speaking in front of for-real people about what it feels like to be a special needs mom. None of that was planned for, resolved, or written down.

When it came to choosing a word of the year, part of me was like “Dude. What’s the point? Everybody forgets their words and resolutions by March, anyway.” Like the gym – it’s packed in January, and by spring break? Not so much.

A single hour hadn’t yet swished by when I felt my word of 2020 percolating. At first, it was too quiet to hear. Just a feeling, really. Something I’d accidentally find myself thinking about while cooking breakfast, or getting ready to check email.

I couldn’t hear it exactly, but I began to get a sense of it. A little acknowledgment in my belly that made me realize it’d been growing within me in moments between those in which I was thinking about something on purpose.

Eventually, it became a whisper. And then, I found my word.

2020 – My Word Of The Year

My word of the year is Heal. 

At first, I thought “Nah, too passive.”

Except, I realize I love the word Heal, and know it’s the perfectly exactly right-for-me-now word.

I love Heal because it implies both growth and damage. It says that through humaning and being, damage is done while also saying “Hey, you. You’re not done. The ways in which you’re damaged can be repaired, or, (at the very least), you’ll sprout a new branch in those spots. Wait, water, and see what happens.” 

Heal says growth is possible where there once was pain. 

Heal is a word that nods its head to our pasts, says a prayer for the places in which we are scarred, and offers hope. 

Heal is growth from decay. 

Power from powerlessness.

A chance to become our better selves even as we remain our broken selves. 

Heal marries past and future. For without a past, there’s nothing to heal from. And without a future, there’s no room for hope. 

I’ve mentioned that I started therapy last spring, and have also consulted an amazing coach who’s led me on guided meditation. Prior to these commitments, I don’t think I was fully aware that I struggle to like myself.

I mean, who struggles to LIKE HERSELF??? *GROSS* (shrugs)

Gah. Even typing those words makes me shaky and insecure and my lizard brain wants to hide under the bed, as my mean girl brain snickers and giggles and points her finger at me saying “That’s Utterly Ridiculous And Stupid.” Words much too easy to believe.

The healing part gives me a hug and tells me it’s perfectly imperfectly perfect and exactly The Right Word of The Year, and I’m trying to listen to her more. She’s not quite as cool, or as young, or as pretty as the mean girl, but she’s got her own attributes. Experience, and a sense of kindness and empathy. A larger world view.

Heal isn’t as sexy or as bold as some. She’s quiet, and, at times, painful. This particular word and feeling is often unseen if you watch her closely, and yet, she’s got the power of hope and tenderness. Also? When you look back at her next year? She’s likely worked magic and grown to surprise you.

What’s your word of the year? Do you have one or think the whole ritual is cray-cray?

This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post. This week’s prompt is “Word of the Year…”