It’s a new week, the first new week of this new year, and I suspect that we’ve all got some pretty high expectations for it, especially considering the dumpster fire of a year we just came through (*here’s side-eyeing you, 2020*). This is the year we’re going to get it together. This is the year we’re going to win at this life thing. This is the year that will be different. And maybe it will.
But also? Maybe it won’t. Maybe it’s too early to tell. Maybe we need to ease into this week real slow, like water, like prayer, instead of in a frenzied panic to do more, be more, get more done. Maybe we need to find our footing first. Maybe we’re a little hesitant, a little worried, a little anxious. Maybe we just need some time to get acclimated. Maybe this isn’t the week that we need to do it all.
Kids are back in school this week, which means if you’re a parent you’re getting up early to fix breakfasts, pack lunches, make sure everyone’s out the door on time. Or else you’re getting your children set up with their computers and the homework they were supposed to do over holiday break, reminding them to unmute themselves, to turn their cameras on, to make sure they log in on time. 2020’s over, but there are some things about that year that we’re still living through.
People are back to work this week, which means emails have piled up, voicemails need to be returned, there are meetings and planning sessions and new deadlines. We’ve all been moving a little bit slow these last few weeks, and now the lights have been taken down, the cookies have been eaten, and the general merriment that accompanies a holiday season has dwindled away, replaced by goals and resolutions and a culture that screams at us to push harder, work faster, achieve more.
What if, this week, we take the pressure off?
What if, this week, we slow it down?
What if, this week, we do our best and call it good enough?
Your to-do lists are still going to be there next week, friend, and the week after that, and the one after that. You have plenty of time to show this year what you’re made of.
For now, rest in the knowledge that you are loved this week, friends. This week, and every week.