I spent the majority of our holiday break in one of two modes: holiday magic maker or exhausted mom taking a nap. I say that as if napping is a luxury - and to many, it is - but this wasn’t extravagant. It was necessary.
By 42, I would have assumed that I would’ve learned my lesson of not running myself ragged. Alas, I have not. Even though I resolved in September that our fall season wouldn’t be chaotic, we sprinted into the end of the year. I saw the signs when I wrote about failing to publicize the podcast in mid-December, but by then, the train had left the station. Within the last three weeks, all four Kuglers have been sick to some degree, Dave was traveling for an intense work season, we finished holiday prep for three families and the guy in the jolly red suit, and I was trying to make sense of a foundational (i.e. brick-by-brick building) year with BEAM, my writing, and my consulting business.
My body said “No.” My husband saw the signs before I did. Dave graciously documented it with photos and let me sleep as much as I could.
Now that the kids are back in school/childcare, the house is eerily quiet. I may not have kept my promise to protect my peace in the run-up to the holidays, but I’m proud of safeguarding this early January time to enter slowly. It took at least one day to ground myself and push aside the to-dos for just a little longer. Day two was about organizing systems so that I could mark off those pesky to-do list items that made me anxious. Days three to five were all about reflecting on what transformed and transpired this past year.
What I find fascinating about year-end reflections and “in/out” lists is that they only tell you a fraction of the story. I’ve seen them all over social media - they are very aesthetically pleasing. You know the meme - Ins: slow mornings, more insightful convos, not sidestepping my ambition, going for what I want. Out: playing it safe and small, rushing toward deadlines, not stopping to smell the roses. There was a part of me that wanted to just post a quick IG story about it and call it done, but it wouldn’t be authentic. At best, it would be surface-level and you deserve more than that. We all deserve deeper conversations with each other. As I mentioned during my solo episode of And More about “ending the year ‘well’,” I like to see what big trends encapsulate my experience in the past year before steamrolling into goal-setting mode.
As I look back at 2023, some common themes emerge:
My January 2023 intentions of reclamation and healing were spot on - and I’m not done with them yet. I remember sitting in the middle of a gym workout on the weight bench, pushing away tears because I realized that one of the main reasons I wanted to strength train was to control how my body looked postpartum. (Fun fact: postpartum, perimenopause, and weight gain is a mind-f***.) I discovered how I’m slowly chipping away at regulating my nervous system after being in constant fight/flight for the past few years.
The story of my year is not told in profits, popularity, or productivity - and that’s okay. Do I wish I made more income this year? Absolutely, but when I look back, I see the most disjointed (yet, fulfilling) year of maternity leave, starting a business, and a woman who was rebuilt on a cellular level after processing the events of the past two years. Even though it’s something we financially planned for, there’s still a story about my worth being tied to my income - yet another thing for me to dig deeper into.
Spaghetti doesn’t belong on a wall anymore. Whenever anyone has asked me “What is on your plate right now?” I answer with the litany of things I’m building: BEAM, podcasting, writing, clients, family, and more. The common answer: “Oh wow, that is a lot.” In reality, I was putting as much spaghetti on a wall to see what would stick. This is what you do in early-stage companies and it is the most uncomfortable process. It requires entrepreneurs to sit amid their discomfort, objectively analyze what is working, and scrap what isn’t. I’ve done a lot of this work already - I realized that BEAM is a long-term build, not a quick-turn business. My saving grace in all of this - other than my new Lexapro meds - is that I booked a coaching session with
to help me see some of the forest through the trees and make a plan to move forward.
The next question that naturally arises with that kind of reflection is about what my intentions are for this year. What word will sum up my experience? I honestly don’t know which words will stick around (I’m notorious for declaring some and then changing my mind mid-January). The three that keep circling are simplicity, boundaries, and abundance. Those feel the most right in my gut, though I have no idea how they’ll go together.
In the meantime, I do have some really big things in the works for both BEAM and my writing, so stay tuned! We’ll have new episodes of And More with Amy Kugler starting this week, a fresh new look across all our digital platforms, and new partnerships to celebrate. I can’t wait for what 2024 will teach us. In the meantime, I’m going to work and rest up.
What words or intentions are you holding as you walk into 2024? I’d love to know!
I love this post, Amy. I feel your honesty exuding from the screen, and a smile crept across my face when seeing the pic of you sleeping and taking care.
It's refreshing to read reflections that are a combination of curiosity and grace, and you're doing the same as you more into the new year. I have a similar commitment, as I work to curate what I want more of in my life and realize what might be weighing me down in the process.
To a year of health and simplicity! ❤️