Onwards and Upwards

Edward Monkton, Anything is Possible

At 00.14 this morning I posted the following reflection on 2016 on Facebook:

                ‘Thank goodness that’s over. Onwards and upwards…’

I’m far from alone in expressing relief that the time has finally come to draw a line under this most discombobulating of years. But that status is, inevitably, a fairly misleading summary of my feelings towards the last twelve months. In fact, on a personal level, 2016 was one of the most positive and productive years I’ve had for quite some time.

As clichéd as it might seem, turning 40 in December 2015 genuinely felt like a new start: an opportunity to draw a line under my thirties which were – particularly the latter half – pretty dreadful. It meant I started 2016 with a renewed sense of optimism and a resolve to both take and create new opportunities where they presented themselves.

This year I have lost weight (and put some back on because, you know, Christmas…), left the country (for a fortnight spent with family in Seattle), got a new job (supporting rural churches), moved into my ‘own’ house (by which I meant rented, obviously) and, as a result, started to get involved in a new church. 

Finishing the year in a much more settled state than that in which it started provides obvious opportunities to reflect and take stock. The truth is that the ‘dreadful’ few years I’ve had are nothing in comparison with the fear, trauma and displacement experienced by whole communities in war torn countries around the world.

Despite the limitations of my circumstances over the last few years I’ve never been forced to rely on food banks or been at risk of homelessness (although the extraordinary generosity I’ve received from family and friends has given me an insight into just how easy it could be for someone with a similar background to my own to find themselves at the mercy of the UK’s shrinking welfare state).

And yet I’ve been aware of some interesting markers of a growing sense of being in a much better place, particularly emotionally, than I have been for quite some time. There’s been a growing sense of feeling ‘comfortable’ and I’m grateful that the values instilled in me from my family and church community (in the widest sense) have prompted an internal alarm that warns of the complacency that can so easily follow.

But the confirmation of my sense of being in a good place came yesterday when for the first time in a while I felt bored. Properly bored. The kind of bored you feel when the basic building blocks of normal life are secure and you’re emotionally stable. The kind of bored that says, ‘right, I’m ready for what’s next’.

The last few years have taught me to sit light to plans, goals and resolutions. Yes, they can be helpful pointers, markers of the possible, but I’ve learnt that often the most important experiences, opportunities and relationships are not the ones we plan or contrive but the ones we allow room to develop unexpectedly.

In that spirit, this year I’ll be looking to invest more time and energy into being creative (whatever shape or form that might take), getting involved in gathered Christian community (including at my local church on a Sunday morning) and increasing my active engagement in politics, both locally and more widely (primarily through my relatively new membership of the Labour Party).

From a global perspective it was, in my opinion, the unexpected, the element of surprise that made 2016 such a difficult year to navigate. In contrast, some of the probable challenges of 2017 feel more obvious: the priorities and values of the ‘new’ Conservative government are increasingly clear and their practical implications worrying; President Trump will be inaugurated in less than three weeks and the scope of his policy ambitions, now hinted at will begin to become reality; the international migrant crisis and the wide-spread conflict that caused it show no sign of abating.

It’s impossible to know here and now how each or any of those issues – local and global – will impact me in the next twelve months. I do know, however, that I feel more willing and able to engage with them than I have done for quite some time, and that in itself feels like quite an achievement.