December 31, 2020

I’ve started this year-end wrap up piece in my head a dozen times but couldn’t bring myself to the keyboard. Until now, as we literally only have a few hours left of the year we’ll never forget.

 It’s December 31st and truth be told, I’m feeling lousy. I’m not very comfortable with heaviness. Sunshine and positivity are how I am wired, but those attributes are harder to come by these days. I’m assuming a lot of you can relate.

 As I reflect, as one does this time of year, I remember where I was last year on this day. On a ski trip with my children and then live-in boyfriend buzzing around Aspen looking for something fabulous to wear for our NYE dinner with a big group of mostly new friends. I think I was soaking in a bubble bath about now and probably even sipping champagne already. The kids were ecstatic about the party at the hotel and we were all pretty giddy about our rigorous days in the mountains, improving our technique on the slopes - literally swaddled in nature’s beauty at every turn. We were happy and alive and in love and honestly, it didn’t feel like we had a single care in the world. It has never been lost on me how blessed I am and just like most days, I remember feeling overwhelmed with gratitude.

Today feels very different. No this is not an invite to a pity party because I have every reason in the world to be thankful, still today, one year later after the Covid of it all. My family is healthy, my loved ones have mostly been untouched by the pandemic, and other than drastically curbing our social lives and suffering from a fair amount of cabin fever, we are all okay. But collectively, as a humanity, as a planet – we are not.

 I remember realizing things were getting really bad in March. And I remember sharing something Oprah had said with you guys on IG: “I think we lose as human beings if we only think of this as a physical virus. It’s here to teach us and show us something about ourselves as individuals and as a world of people. This is a moment for our humanity to either rise or not.”

And I asked you at the time, “Will we rise?”

Well, here we are nine months later and frankly, I just don’t know. Have we risen to this occasion? Can you call it that? I think I’m irritated or slightly sad because there’s no real finish line in site. Earlier this year (one of the highlights of 2020 for me) I completed my third half-marathon. At forty-five years old. And I finished with a personal record pace! I remember hitting mile eleven and welling up with emotion and having to swallow tears because I could barely breathe. I damn near hyperventilated. Not because it was too difficult physically, but because I was just riddled with joy and pride knowing I was in the home stretch of accomplishing something really quite challenging for me.

Here, now, in this moment it doesn’t feel like we are in the home stretch of anything. It feels like we are stuck. “But come on, Catt, what have you learned?” I keep coming back to that question so I can try and share something poignant or beautiful or hopeful with you guys.

Well, let me see.

I’ve learned I can be alone.

I’ve learned therapy works.

I’ve learned grief should not be rushed.

I’ve learned my children are my biggest teachers.

I’ve learned to say yes to new people who encourage me to stretch.

I’ve learned to say no to old patterns with men (the asshole kind).

I’ve learned I don’t like zoom or conference calls.

I’ve learned being more organized makes me more productive.

I’ve learned that moving your body is the best thing you can do for free.

I’ve learned that hard conversations about race and privilege have to take place even though they are in fact hard.

I’ve learned that wearing pretty things and putting on makeup does raise your spirits.

I’ve learned that I’m most creative when I’m making choices that align with my values.

I’ve learned that I can survive without hair extensions.

I’ve learned that I love long walks outside.

I’ve learned that voting matters.

I’ve learned that real heroes don’t walk red carpets or grace magazine covers, they wear scrubs and ring up your groceries.

I’ve learned that I care less about what you think of me and I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings.

I’ve learned that mushroom powder makes my brain work better.

I’ve learned that I hate blind dates.

I’ve learned that marching for justice fills my soul.

I’ve learned that complete deconstruction is necessary to build anything new.

I’ve learned that I’m a better cook than I give myself credit for.

I’ve learned that when you’re bored of tequila, gin makes a nice replacement.

I’ve learned about betrayal and trauma bonds and how damaging they can be.

I’ve learned that the more vulnerable, the more naked, the more open I am with you the more impact I can make.

I’ve learned that healing doesn’t have a finish line, it is ongoing.

I’ve learned that more meaningful time with my kids has been my favorite part of this year.

I’ve learned that I actually like Taylor Swift music after all.

I’ve learned the days I don’t think I need to go to therapy are precisely the days I need to go.

I’ve learned the meaning of emotional support dog – I love you Nipsey and Scarlett.

I’ve learned everything will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay – it’s not the end.

So as we leap into another year, there’s obviously still so much uncertainty. But one thing is for sure, we’ll inevitably learn a few more things. Like it or not.

Wishing you good health, an abundance of love, and the promise of a better tomorrow.

Catt