An Open Letter to 2020 (and a confession)

** Before I begin this letter, I’m bursting at the seams to tell you:
I’ve written the companion guide to my original book, The Chaos Antidote: A Fable About Mindfulness. This new companion guide, The Chaos Antidote: Six-Week Mindfulness Workbook, will be available on Amazon and other major online retailers soon (hopefully by Christmas!) Stay tuned, friends!**

Dear 2020,

I’m not sure where to begin this letter. We’ve been at odds for nigh on 12 moons.

I’m itching to rant about some things …

…the lack of childcare help

… losing my dad

… everything closing, reopening, closing, not sure

… trying to run a business while overseeing two kids eLearning

… worrying constantly about exposing our family and others to sickness

… worrying about loved ones growing lonely

… toilet paper

But you know all this and more—about me and billions of other people around the globe.

As the year draws to a close, I’m here to come clean.

I have a confession: I’ve fought reality. All. 2020-Year. Long.

(And I haven’t won.)

… I tried to cover all the childcare help. (#formulafordisaster #ifmamaainthappy)

… I tried to overachieve to drown my sadness from losing my beloved father.

… I tried to escape the impact of the world closing down, sickness and loneliness abounding in loved ones (and myself).

In my book, “The Chaos Antidote: A Fable About Mindfulness”, one of the characters says that she’s decided to stop fighting. But it’s not about giving up. It’s about surrender, a wholly separate thing.

To me, surrender means accepting what is. That doesn’t mean everything’s hunky-dory, and God knows it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

It just means I acknowledge the way things are and quit thrashing against it. Then I’m in a place of power to move forward in a positive direction, not ignoring, raging at or sugar coating things.

I surrender. I’m going to practice saying it out loud. Want to join me?

(Deep breath in. And long breath out.)

I surrender.

I surrender.

I surrender.

(Deep breath in. And long breath out.)

I wish you love, light and many moments of blissful surrender in the weeks to come. (And, of course, plenty of toilet paper!)

Holiday blessings to you and yours,

Aimee