Time Can Either Be Taken from Us or Taken by Us
Thoughts on resolutions, imperfection, and the art of doing nothing
Table of Contents
Hey folks,
Ellie here. I’m glad to be writing to you during my favorite time of year.
I love the clean slate, the openness to seeing new possibilities, and the hopeful feelings accompanying a fresh start.
Let’s take a look at the basics of “a fresh start.” It begins with the knowledge that there is something better out there for you. Maybe you don’t even know what that is yet. But there is something about a new year that signals us to reflect and learn from the past and use it to propel us forward into something new.
Whatever you call it — a fresh start, a clean slate, or something totally different — there's just something about starting anew that feels appealing. This is particularly true as we ring in the new year. But, throughout the year, I find that it also applies to the first day of a new month or a new week. Yep, even Mondays. And with every fresh sunrise.
The truth is, even though we feel it the most around the new year, we can do things differently with every moment. Every minute, every second is an opportunity to make a change or to stay the same.
I remember a good friend of mine in grad school would commiserate with how we approached studying. We’d glance at the clock, and say something like, “Ope, well, 3:10, guess we’ll start studying at 4:00.” There was something about missing that tip top of the hour that meant that studying for 50 minutes wasn’t the 60 minutes we had planned for, so we had to start over to get it right the next hour.
Look, I know it makes no logical sense, but we are talking about how we approach the new year and fresh starts here, so bear with me.
What we are ultimately talking about is time. And I can wax philosophic on time for, well, a long time. But, to respect yours, I’ll simply say this — time can either be taken from us or taken by us.
And the marking of a new year on the calendar tends to collectively force us to reflect on how we want to spend our time. Such reflection often lends itself to thinking about change.

We have so many analogies and metaphors for transformation and growth. The metamorphosis from a caterpillar to a butterfly is an excellent example of how beautiful and wondrous a process it can be. Still, it also alludes to a change from one being to another, which means there is a past that is irretrievably lost. To me, that signals just a twinge of sadness or nostalgia. It’s all really quite full of complicated and contradictory feelings and thoughts.
In the new year, I am lured by the opportunity for freshness, and I don’t want to pay much attention to what remains unresolved in my heart. Whether that is regret, resentment, confusion, feelings of inadequacy, or imperfection—who wants to linger here? But to transform and grow into something new, I tap into the courage to sit in these uncomfortable places. In my 38 years, I’ve found that lasting growth and positive change come from spending time in the muck.
I’ve spent a lot of time in the muck of perfectionism. What a gnarly, nagging place. Nothing in life has hindered me as much as believing in the illusion of perfection. It has driven me into a backbreaking pace of working and living, and despite the pace, I still often feel inadequate.
To combat feeling inadequate in the context of perfectionism, I’m actively reminding myself of and meditating on this thought: If there are no weeds in a garden, it is not a garden. There is no perfection— only a process of acknowledging and accepting who you are at the core of your being. And then making decisions from that space.

What is amazing about thinking about the upcoming year or week or moment, is that you can decide to turn the page, pursue something new, mindfully engage in the present moment, or fill-in-the-blank.
Maybe you’ll be great at it. Maybe you won’t.
Maybe it won’t last very long. Maybe it will.
What do you want to slough off that wasn’t working for you? What held you back? What fears can you stomp out?
With yearly talk of resolutions, there is another conversation about how most resolutions fail. And, probably because of things like perfectionism, we may shy away from failure. Yet, we create stories of triumph over difficulties. We can’t have a story of triumph without something to prevail over. We simply cannot have one without the other.
It takes the courage to step into the ring over and over again. Ready to fail and learn and keep trying. So instead of resolutions, consider asking yourself this question: What do I want to cultivate this year?

This year, I am cultivating the“art of doing nothing.” In our fast-paced, distraction-filled lives inundated with messages that urge us to “hustle” and work to keep buying stuff we don’t need, it’s hard not to feel guilty for sitting and resting or doing nothing.
I have a cute little reminder stuck on my fridge with an adorable Betty White magnet.

It reminds me that rest is one of the essential keys to unlocking a meaningful and healthy life. Rest is vital for better mental health, increased concentration and memory, a healthier immune system, reduced stress, improved mood, and improved metabolism.
I’ve had a lot of “new” years since I was studying in grad school. And I’ve learned that you really can’t miss the right or planned time to start, the right time for reflection and change is right now.
As you enter a new year, I encourage you to remember that time can either be taken from us or taken by us.
What time can you take this year, this month, this week, this sunrise to cultivate something new and fresh in your life?
In connection,
Ellie
The The Reverie Newsletter
Delivered to your inbox every other Sunday.