How setting myself monthly challenges in 2019 made it my best year to date
“New year, new you” — four words that simultaneously fill me with hope and dread. It’s easy enough to be optimistic at the start of January, when you’ve got the whole year ahead of you and you’re brimming with energy and excited determination, yet realistically, who maintains their New Year’s resolutions past the end of the month (assuming they get that far)?
As someone who began 2019 single, unemployed and utterly confused about which career path to take, it would have been easy to spiral into self-pity and waste my time coveting the lives my friends had carved out for themselves, which mostly included high-earning jobs, husbands and newly-purchased homes. However, I thought about the one thing my friends always say when I begin sulking about my life: “You have so much freedom!” This spurred me into action — I decided to throw away the ‘should be doing’s’ and explore the different opportunities at my disposal. My journey this year was for the women who wanted to throw off the shackles, but couldn’t quite muster up the courage to do so. Each month, I took on a new challenge (even when I lacked the self-belief to feel I was really capable of accomplishing it) and now I sit here, twelve months on, marvelling at how that very first challenge set in motion a chain of events that have got me to where I am today, a place of peace, clarity and contentment.
It all began with putting on a dance event, an idea I’d toyed with for a while, not only because I wanted an excuse to flail my limbs, but also because I longed to bring my local community together through the thing that I love most: dance. Whilst in Berlin in 2016, I discovered Ecstatic Dance, a place where people dance freely together without using verbal communication, and I got completely hooked. Although it exists in the UK, there is very little of it outside of London and the big cities, so the concept was fairly alien to people in my hometown in West Berkshire. I had been to plenty of Ecstatic Dances in Berlin, but I had never been trained to facilitate one and on the day of the event, my heart was pounding, my head was spinning and I was full of fear — would I do an alright job? Would anyone actually turn up? Much to my surprise, over twenty people walked through the door that night and I took great delight in watching men and women of all ages slowly lose their inhibitions (without the aid of substances) and dance together. I left on a complete high and have since organised two more successful events, from which a community of like-minded people has developed.
The following month, I spent some time volunteering to help refugees in Calais, a challenge that involved spending long periods of time outside in the freezing cold trying to raise the spirits of people who, quite frankly, had very little to be cheerful about; they had been beaten by police, pepper sprayed in their sleep, had their tents torn and their few personal possessions snatched away from them. There was one day in particular when our group was struggling to lift the sombre mood across the camp, until somebody suggested we return to the warehouse and bring the set of speakers that were kept there, so that we could play some music. I began taking people by the hand and encouraging them to dance along with me and what happened next was incredibly moving: slowly but surely, a circle began to form and people took it in turns to enter the circle and dance with one another, smiles spreading across their faces, their sorrows put to one side. This went on for roughly four hours and, by the time we were ready to leave, the mood of the camp had completely transformed. That was undoubtedly the most magical day of 2019 for me and to this day, I am still getting texts from refugees I met at that camp.
By March, I was back home and still buzzing from my Calais experience, when I got a call from a woman I had been working with on a project called Recovery Trekking. The aim of this project was to help people suffering from alcoholism and addiction by leading them along famous trekking routes, such as the Camino de Santiago in Spain. As it so happened, I had recently had an article published about my own journey in recovery to help other young women, in which I’d mentioned Recovery Trekking. It turns out one reader who identifies as an alcoholic was so struck by the similarities between her story and mine that she decided to get in touch and ask if she could go on a trek with me later in the month, to which I enthusiastically agreed. It took just under a week to guide this woman along a 100km stretch and, as we approached our final destination, I saw her eyes fill with tears, a mix of emotions no doubt. For me, the journey was more of a mental challenge than a physical one; I can put up with cold weather, achy muscles and blistered feet, but when you’ve got all that time to walk and think, painful thoughts and memories sometimes rise to the surface and these are often harder to combat. However, I was so blown away by this extraordinary woman’s progress and the transformation in her that my own difficulties were soon forgotten about. As we hugged goodbye on the final day, she said to me, “From the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything you have done for me. You and I were meant to meet.” Touching words indeed.
In April came the inevitable comedown; I had had three wonderful experiences, but I was back to feeling lost and self-pity was starting to creep in. I began going round and round in circles about what I really wanted from life until finally I could no longer bear it, and I decided to seek a little assistance. A friend of mine had recommended a careers advisor in Bath, which is not exactly on my doorstep, but I was optimistic that the journey would be worthwhile. During our one-hour session, this careers advisor asked me about my skills and experience, professional and otherwise. After concluding that dance and helping others were clearly of great importance to me, she asked me if I’d ever considered being a Dance Therapist. “Of course,’’ I responded, “That would be the dream. However, I would need to fork out for a three-year Masters degree and with my limited experience, the chances are I wouldn’t even be accepted onto any program.” “Have you even tried?” was her response. By the end of that session, I had begrudgingly agreed to go home and get the ball rolling by contacting each of the universities that offer a course in DMP (Dance Movement Psychotherapy). Step by step, I did everything that was required and, before I knew it, I was in my second interview, sitting before an established tutor at the University of Roehampton. Despite the fact that I am not a trained dancer, do not have a relevant undergraduate, and even cried at one point during my interview (mostly through disbelief that I had made it that far!) this tutor clearly saw something in me, as he offered me a place on the course just one week later.
It’s remarkable how overcoming a single challenge can get you fired up to tackle another, then another, and the more you push yourself, the more your comfort zone expands. After getting accepted onto the Masters program, my confidence soared and with each subsequent ‘challenge of the month’, I found myself getting excited rather than anxious; whatever the outcome, I knew I’d be able to handle it. Over the course of the next eight months, I carried out an interview live on local radio, catered for twelve women on a yoga retreat in Portugal, spent a day entertaining patients with dementia at a nearby care home, and signed up for a half marathon (prior to October, I had never run more than 5km in my life; now, I’m up to 15km) to name but a few challenges. The biggest change at the end of it all is not a visible one — I still don’t have a well-paid job, marriage is not on the cards, and I’m certainly nowhere near buying a house. However, my perception of myself and my abilities is completely different to what it was this time last year and for once, I can actually say I feel proud to be me.
For any women who are feeling lost, confused and and envious of their peers, here’s my advice: begin 2020 with a different outlook. Firstly, think about what you can pack into the stream of life, rather than dwelling on your shortcomings. Then make a list of things you’d like to accomplish over the coming year, no matter how unrealistic or far-fetched they may seem. Finally, don’t be afraid to “fail” or go off course a bit; this is not about achieving perfection, but rather about growth, and I believe it is only through setting ourselves challenges and making mistakes along the way that we grow.
For a bit of extra motivation, I can highly recommend the book Feel the Fear & Do It Anyway by bestselling author Susan Jeffers.
