Vive la Résistance

I gave myself a break over the holidays: No self-assigned deadlines. I watched several seasons of Holiday Baking Championship. Rarely worked out. Took maybe a weekly glimpse at social media. I ate what I wanted, enjoying the treats of the season. I was often in bed and reading by 8:30pm, listening to the winter wind whip around my cozy cottage, and woke to a world dusted with sparkling snow and filled with plush silence. This time was delightful, and a valuable reset.

In 2025, change came barreling through my life like a tornado-- without warning, leaving me instantly yet unevenly transformed. There is a clear before and after that day the listing for a horseback trip to the Golden Eagle Festival in Mongolia’s western Kazakh region triggered a visceral, life-altering reaction in me. Standing there next to my vehicle at a town park I was instantly transformed, my heart afire for exotic adventure. Middle aged me, who enjoys the relative luxury and ease I’ve attained in my daily life, was suddenly plodding through airports like a bloated turtle, duffel on my back and backpack on my chest, on a smaller wilderness trip to British Columbia. Sore from long days in the saddle as I scrambled with my hands across a rocky mountainside, I felt exhausted and thrilled and as I drank in the view at 6000 feet. Awe bestowed profound peace and belonging.

Returning to normal life afterwards was not easy. I was restless and questioning the life I had built. What else needed to change? If I was an adventurer now, what did this mean for my choice of occupation? What about vocation? I became anxious and tense, trying to figure it all out.

I’d also started writing about the experience and for six months I posted a piece here weekly. That schedule was great for keeping me creatively and spiritually engaged and for mitigating perfectionism. It was not so good for other areas of my life.

My holiday break gave me a chance to rest, to reflect. To make the long journey from my head to my heart, which knows that sometimes the most impactful changes are the small, quiet ones we commit to making again and again. If last year was revolutionary, this year I’m embracing resistance.

Resistance, strong and steady. For example, I am resisting the notion that military morning routines are necessary for a productive day. I am no longer jarring myself awake in the mornings by forcing myself out of bed and flipping on overhead lights, triggering a cascade of hurried movements which convey me through the day and back to bed after nightfall. Instead I’ve been beginning each day by gentle lamplight, taking the time to journal, meditate, and pray before my feet even touch the floor. Proving to my nervous system that I don’t have to scurry like a hamster on a wheel through every waking moment of the day. It’s glorious!

I’m also resisting “all or nothing” thinking. For me, it’s hard to dabble in things I love. This year, I’m taking the coldest months off from riding. And I’m reducing the frequency of my Wild Ride posts to monthly (on the first Sunday), although I may publish more frequently following my trip to Mongolia at the end of the summer.

I still have questions. About my professional future, about the “best” (truest to the values of my spirit) way to live this life. I’m resisting my tendency to approach these questions with pressure and tension. Because maybe in the end, the details don’t matter. Maybe willingness to live sanely in the questions is the answer.

What are you embracing this year?