To me, the beginning of a new year is like a blank sheet of paper … a page in a new journal where —  with the help of my pokey #2 pencil or blue Uniball pen — I will write my thoughts and begin my story.

But how to write it … how to begin that first paragraph … it’s messy. So I have a trick to help me. For as long as I can remember, I’ve incorporated themes into my writing — gimicks that help me frame a message.

Inspired by a dear friend a few years ago, I began to do something similar to shape my personal direction at the beginning of a new year — to help me begin writing on that New Years’ Day blank page. I’ve chosen a Word to guide my year and to focus on, kind of like an intention during a yoga class that sees you thru the challenging poses — and steadies you thru the flow.  Two years ago it was Hope. Last year, I chose Kindness.

To commemorate these choices, I wore a Mudlove bracelet on my wrist — a daily reminder of my intention. It’s not a loose-fitting bracelet. And neither Hope nor Kindness were  loose-fitting choices.

As I thought about what I wanted for 2019, several words and intentions came to mind. 2018 was a transitional year for me.  After 8 years, I made a job change. Not only a job change, but truly a career adjustment from a part-time position to a fast-paced full-time event planning position in downtown Detroit. My simple 5-minute commute changed to a not so easy “20 minute drive” — heavily influenced by traffic and weather.  In the meantime — well, at the same time I started my new job — I also ventured outside my normal “theatre world” into a new group, memorizing oodles of lines and performing a comedic role in a completely new environment for me. I’m beginning a new dramatic role this month which will challenge me once again. I started new knitting projects, tried out different authors and books, read non-fiction!, expanded my exercise regime and even ventured into the streaming world of Apple Music! I spent less time on “social media” and more time actually socializing with the people important to me.

2018 helped me figure out who I truly was — and who I truly want to be. And to be me.  It helped me set boundaries and examine what I wanted my life to be — and who I wanted to share it with. It forced me to examine what I wanted and needed … and to ask for or seek it.  I found the courage to open the door and walk into the unknown. To turn to the light and to be kinder to myself.  To remember who I am … and to accept that is enough. In 2018, I put aside situations and people that didn’t serve me.  And I also learned that love is not a finite item … that we have more than enough to share and that this world desperately needs more of it.

I planted a seed in 2018. But it was struggling. It needed more light … a different window ledge. The seed took a while to take root. And I wasn’t always patient with that gentle seed. So I changed the dirt. I added some additional nutrients and provided lots of water. I took the delicate roots and relocated them to a different pot. And now, only hours after the completion of my first significant event planned at my new job and one day into 2019, I’m beginning to truly see that seed grow … to Bloom.

Yes, my word for 2019 is Bloom.

When a flower doesn’t Bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows. Not the flower. (Alexander den Heijer). For a long time though, I was pretty sure there was something wrong with the flower. It didn’t grow. It didn’t Bloom.

But flowers — like people — must be tended. Petals are stronger than you think but they require love, light and caring to grow. You can’t bury a seed in the ground, leave it to its own devices and expect it to become a beautiful rose bush. No. Growing the most beautiful of flowers takes time and effort. And that rose requires Dirt and Rain and Storms as well as Sunshine.

I’m that flower. And I’m the gardener too. It takes effort to Bloom … and to help people, relationships, careers, families, friendships and talents Bloom. You have to Be Present. You have to make an effort. And you have to be patient, loving, nurturing and careful. You have to weed the garden. You have to look toward the light and dance in the rain.

Oh, and one more thing I’ve learned …

But maybe that’s another blog for another time.

So, the word is Bloom. Now to get to work making the garden grow …

— Jenni