127: Look Both Ways
It was New Year’s Eve 2012. I was living in Atlanta, GA at the time, but was home for the holidays—“home” being Orlando, FL. And I was so excited about how I planned to spend the next 24 hours. I don’t exactly remember where the inspiration came from, but my hope that year was to follow the light. Literally. The plan was to catch the last sunset of 2012 and the first sunrise of 2013—both at the beach, because well, when in Florida…
Now, in Florida, this kind of goal is not out of reach. You can easily drive the width of the entire peninsula in a handful of hours. And that’s exactly what we decided to do. My parents and I hopped in the car and drove a little over two hours to the west coast, where we enjoyed a delicious dinner on the water and watched the sun sink low with our toes in the sand.
Not long after the sun went down, we hopped back in the car and drove back to Orlando, where we made a quick pit stop to watch the ball drop and catch a couple hours of sleep. Then, long before dawn, we made the hour and half drive to the east coast, where the same sun greeted us once more, rising beautifully over the steady waves into a brand new day, a brand new year. It was a memorable experience, for sure, and one of my favorite New Year’s celebrations to date.
Once again, believe it or not, we’ve reached that familiar place—the threshold that is ending one year and beginning another. And while my plans this year did not involve catching the last sunset and the first sunrise, I do still sense a similar sort of invitation—to look both ways.
An invitation like this isn’t necessarily new. From a very young age, when we approach an intersection, we are taught to look both ways before we step into it. We double check to make sure it is safe to cross. Of course the difference here is that moving from one year to another isn’t necessarily about looking left and right or east and west. It’s more backward and forward, ahead and behind, hoping and remembering, considering what was and maybe what could still be. It’s perhaps less about safety and more about wholeness.
Wholeness, I believe, is key. And yet, if you’re anything like me, you might prefer to look one particular way. For instance, if the past year held a lot of hardship, heartbreak or disappointment, we might feel very ready for a fresh start. On the flip side, if the year contained a ton of goodness and joy, we might not be ready to rush ahead or move forward.
Most of the time, though, our years are mixed bags. Not all good and not all bad. Even still, we might find we are prone to lean in a particular direction. For instance, your personality might love the practice of choosing a word, setting a goal or crafting a resolution. You might feel drawn to the shine of possibility and the hope of new beginnings. Or the opposite could be true. You might be partial to a gratitude list, a walk down memory lane or holding your year in review. You find comfort and security in remembering and marking all that you experienced and you might feel hesitant about what comes next.
It isn’t wrong to have a preference. But I’m learning that if we only focus our attention and energy in one particular direction, we’re missing out. It’s incomplete. If the goal is to be whole, we would do well to look both ways and engage the wisdom of both reflection and intention. Looking back. Looking forward. Hoping for what’s ahead. Remembering what’s behind.
So, what might this look like?
Well, it could look lots of ways. But the spiritual director in me wonders if a few questions might be helpful as we seek to follow the Light and set our gaze on both a faithful ending and an intentional beginning.
{If you’d like, this might be a good time to pause the episode and grab a pen and paper. Or if you’d rather just consider these questions quietly within, that’s fine, too. Whatever works best for you.}
To begin, in this moment, I wonder which way you’d rather look. Ahead or behind? Maybe both feel fine to you, and that’s great. But does one feel easier? Or is there one you’re more resistant to? There isn’t a right or wrong answer here—only an honest one. Once you’re able to name and notice what is true for you right now, it might be worth considering what might be informing your answer.
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Next, let’s take some time to look back. To remember and reflect on all this last year held. What did you experience? What brought you joy? What was difficult? Is there anything you want to hold onto or let go of? In light of it all, who did you become?
That right there is really the question. As I mentioned earlier, most years are mixed bags. And so as we reflect and remember, the goal isn’t to necessarily label a year good or bad. Instead, the goal is to notice how you were shaped and formed by the full spectrum of your experience.
The invitation here is not to evaluate or rank yourself. The invitation is simply to notice and bear witness. Who did you become?
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Now, let’s look ahead. Is there anything you’re excited for? Is there something you’re anxious about? What do you hope might be different? Do you want anything to stay the same? In light of it all, who do you hope to become?
It’s a question that helps us begin with intention. Because while we can’t ultimately control everything that happens, we do have the agency to participate in our own formation—in our own becoming.
The invitation here isn’t to force, fake or rush into anything. Instead, the invitation is to discern how we might walk with God in every decision, every ambition, every setback, every fear, in each regular ordinary day. In doing so, we just might continue to become the people God calls and invites us to be. Who do you hope to become? And with your answer in mind, what next steps might God be inviting you into?
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Look both ways. After all, God is with us in it all. This practice can be done at the turn of a calendar year, on a birthday or an anniversary. It could even be done more frequently—maybe quarterly or monthly. Really, you can practice as often as you need. Because, as priest and author Fleming Rutledge reminds us,
“What the church holds onto, by grace through faith, is two things: we hold on to memory, and we hold on to hope. We remember the great things that God has done for us, and we hold on to a hope that amounts to a certainty; because God has made promises and it is an inalienable part of God’s nature that [God] keeps [those] promises.”
Today, as you begin a new year, remember to look both ways. To seek both a faithful ending and an intentional beginning. May we reflect and remember. May we dream and hope. May we know and experience the God who was, is, and is to come. And in light of it all, may we follow the Light and continue to become the people God calls and invites us to be.