end of the year expectations

a confession from the perfectionist, accomplishment addict within me:

this week, I found myself fumbling through a long list of unfinished projects, aspirations, and to-dos in an effort to meet my own unconscious expectations around the end of the year. as in: racing towards the finish line for all of the arbitrary deadlines I imposed on myself: stuff I wanted to create, share, launch before Jan 1, 2021.

but, does it even matter? what is the significance of this “end of the year?” — other than to create a hurdle for myself to jump through, only to make a point to myself that I did enough, I’ve done enough — to deserve to rest, to deserve to move forwards into 2021?

in moments like this, it helps me sometimes to imagine doing absolutely nothing. as in: to fully let go of my entire to-do list — by taking it, like a filled cup, and emptying it in the sink. maybe I’ll make a point to myself: by taking a day to walk leisurely around the park, do yoga in the evening, read luxuriously in bed — just to snap myself out of the rat race trance, unconscious beliefs that I’m carrying around about enoughness.

paradoxically, I find that when I’m able to empty my expectations around end of the year tasks, I find more space within me to actually do what matters to me. which could very well be those same things — but framed from a place of spaciousness and possibility, rather than the heaviness of pressure.