On a walk with my friend Maddie the other day, we started talking about the new year, which inevitably led to a discussion of resolutions or resolution-like-things. It was then that Maddie told me that her friend Beth doesn’t set a goal or a resolution for the new year—she sets a word, and now Maddie does it too. At first Maddie was suspicious of the practice, but, after having done it for two years now, she said it’s proven to be worthwhile.
“Wow,” I said. It struck me immediately. It felt simple, like a talisman to keep returning to when I inevitably fly off the handle in 2021. “I’m going to do it too,” I said.
I kept thinking about it, kept tossing and turning over and over about what my 2021 word should be. I had a seemingly endless list going in a note on my phone but, ultimately, my word for 2021 is “ask”.
I just kept coming back to it:
Ask…
the difficult questions
my loved ones how they’re doing/about their lives more
for help
for consideration and opportunities
myself why I’m afraid of [insert so many things here!]
Root my feet into the floor of doctor’s offices or other places I’m scared to take up space in and ask the questions.
Put myself in the shoes of my loved one and ask them a question about what they just said, or reach out across the gap of space, we have so much of it now, and ask the question “How are you doing?”
*
I am not a natural asker of questions. Talk to my loved ones. They will corroborate this, and quickly. It’s been brought to my attention over the years, and was recently brought to my attention again, which got me thinking. It really got me thinking—with my coffee at dawn, in the car, on the couch, in the ocean. I thought—what does it mean to ask a question? And—why am I so bad at this? These were the thoughts that ensued:
To ask is to make a commitment to stay a bit, to not move so quickly from Point A to Point B. It’s a commitment to dwell as you’re waiting for the person to reply--to ask is to sit and keep your ears open as the other person responds. A question literally creates a space that wasn’t there before for someone to step into and share, maybe even set down a weight they’ve been carrying alone. And to be honest, a lot of my life, I have been moving too quickly from Point A to Point B to take the time to ask, been too engrossed in whatever’s going on in my own “echo chamber” (to crib from Dean Nelson’s book on asking questions).
To ask is to still vocal chords, put them in the back seat and let your companion drive and tell and share.
To ask is also to feel you have the right to take up space, like a cow in the road. To be still. It’s to say you’re worthy of the space, the time and the answer and it’s an offering to the other person of those inimitable things as well.
To ask means you want to know more about the world and its inhabitants and phenomenon.
Questions are for asking yourself too.
Ask yourself why you’re scared.
Ask yourself, who says you can’t?
Who is “them”?
Why not?
*
So here I am. Entering 2021 hoping to invite others to share more, to take up more space, to linger, to root my feet in and ask questions I’m scared of asking of others and myself, to indulge curiosity. It feels good.
Special shout out to Maddie for inspiring me, and extended shout out to Beth, who gave the idea to her. <3
PS: When I told my best friends from high school about this endeavor, most of them got really into it too—every couple of days a friend would pipe up on our group chat with their word and why. I’m so excited about this, and to see how the practice unfolds for my loved ones this year.
PPS: This poem by the wondrous Mary Oliver starts and ends with some of the most beautiful and important questions I have ever come across.