How to Give Yourself a Fresh Start
As a memory keeper, I think about the past in terms of projects: albums for the baby years, photo books for our time in Europe, snapshots of deployments and homecomings.
But sometimes life isn’t so tidy.
When our circumstances overwhelm us, our memories can seem like grains of sand sliding through our fingers: too numerous to carry, too slippery to hold.
What if you’re in the middle of a chapter you’re ready to close? What if you’re in the ‘thick of it’ but craving a fresh start?
The last two years have taken a toll on all of us, and it’s important to recognize it. Yes, some folks have had it “worse” that others - but isn’t that always the case?
Diminishing our hardship doesn’t erase the effects of it.
But reflecting on it, facing it, and acknowledging it in some way can help us be gracious to ourselves if we’re still in a heavy season and feeling weighed down by our circumstances.
Answer the right questions
Writing coach Allison Fallon encourages her students to write by answering questions. Even if you’re not a writer or journal-er, it’s a good practice to start thinking through tough stuff.
Consider what you want to know, form the question, then answer it.
I love this idea as a gateway to memory keeping because you don’t have to write your answers at all.
You can answer them with your spouse, family, or a friend.
You can even use them as a springboard to guide you as you choose photos for a photo book or album.
Questions to consider
They don’t all have to be answered, but these questions got me thinking about how the pandemic and all of the fallout from it affected our family:
What was life like early 2020, before everything changed?
What changed immediately? How did your family deal with it?
What good did you experience in 2020 as a result of the world shutting down?
What hardship resulted from the lockdowns?
How did you and your family feel about life in the pandemic?
What was a struggle and what was relatively easy for you to navigate?
What do you wish had been different?
What wouldn’t you change?
What are you grateful for? Who are you grateful for?
Can you think of moments in 2020 and 2021 when you were extremely happy? What was fun, exciting, or spontaneous?
What do you miss about life pre-2020?
What did you lose? What did you gain?
Creating and closing a chapter
Reflection can both prepare us for the future, and also help us wipe the slate clean when that’s what we need to move on.
Whether you write it, say it out loud to a friend or partner, or process it through photos or some other creative endeavor, an honest look at the past can offer perspective, make us grateful, and nudge us into the future.
We don’t have to wait for a season to end or a new year to begin to do this. I’m a fan of new beginnings when you need one.
Each day brings the morning.
What follows is some of my own reflection on the last two years and a few steps to make it your own.
I hope it serves as a reminder of what we all endured and gives you inspiration and encouragement to do this for yourself if you too are grappling with a heavy season but craving the lightness of a fresh start.
1 / Consider the context
Two years ago, in February 2020, with a summer deployment on the calendar, our family plodded along, blissfully unaware of what loomed over the horizon.
When the squadrons in our air wing retreated to northern Nevada for five weeks of training in late February, Covid still seemed distant to us Californians, both mentally and geographically.
A few weeks later, everything shifted. I called my husband and said “the kids aren’t going to school anymore.”
Keep them home through spring break the school district said.
The moms in the neighborhood sat in my driveway that afternoon with a glass of wine, staring at each other in wonder. Three weeks at home. What on earth? Is this real?
At the time, our boys were in kindergarten and second grade. They would be in second and fourth grade before they attended a full day of school again - nearly 18 months later.
2 / Tell the big story
I don’t claim to have cornered the market on suffering through Covid - not by a long shot. We had community, flexibility, and - mercifully - we stayed healthy.
But shortly after the schools shut down, we got the news that would define our Covid experience.
My husband’s squadron would deploy early - very early. Like, immediately.
They would come home, quarantine in their houses for two weeks, then get on the ship and go.
For how long? We had no idea.
The crew and squadrons were healthy, and what happened on the Roosevelt rattled everyone in our community. They needed to leave as soon as possible, to get on that ship in one piece, to push off into the ocean in a Covid-free bubble.
It made sense, but stunned us nonetheless. We stocked up on food, said goodbye to friends, and prepared to hunker down.
But a two week quarantine at home ended abruptly. “They” (the powers that be) made the call to pull the service members a week early.
Easter Sunday would be our last day with him at home. We had no idea when they’d be back.
I’ll spare you the details, because you lived through 2020 and know what that looked like: the lockdowns, school closures, social distancing, political unrest, protests, wildfires in California (our current home state), all of it.
It was quite a year.
3 / turn the page
We did eventually welcome Nick home in late February 2021, nearly 11 months after he left, but I’m not sure any of us have fully recovered.
Still, I’m ready for a fresh start. I’m ready to breathe a little deeper, sleep a little better, and feel a little happier.
So I’m writing this to mark a line in the sand, to bookend those years in my memory.
That was then, this is now.
I’m using reflection as a device to help me take a few steps forward and create a bit of mental separation. I’m not burying my head. I know we’re still deep in the weeds of Covid and its ramifications. I know we have a lot left to process.
But I’m ready to reclaim a bit of the optimism I lost over the last couple of years.
4 / look for the good
Honest reflection provides catharsis and even validation: yes, that happened, and yes, it was really hard. And yes, you got through it.
Covid took something from all of us.
Some lost a family member or friend. Some lost a job, a home. We all lost the concept of ‘normal.’
My family lost a year with Nick, a year and a half of school, and our sense of certainty.
As I scroll through the photos from the last two years, preparing to document them, I see evidence of those losses; but I notice something else among the masks and distance learning and deployment pics.
It’s not all hard, overwhelming, and sad. There’s a lot of good stuff in the mix.
We made fun memories, spent lots of time outdoors, enjoyed our “bubble,” made homecoming signs, and learned to flip on the trampoline.
I took the boys camping and skiing without Nick, which made me feel like I could conquer anything. We decorated early for Christmas. We sent care packages and made videos, celebrated birthdays, and I spent a ton of time with my kids.
That unprecedented time (is there a more overused word?!) taught me so much, but mostly to rely on the kindness of friends and reciprocate with support, friendship, warm meals, encouragement, and empathy.
The deployment, social distancing, and remote learning certainly stand as landmarks on the map of those two years.
But those memories get put in their place when viewed in the context of all that happened.
Perspective helps us balance both the good and the hard experiences to give us a more authentic view of our lives.
5 / Look ahead
As 2022 crests, I feel the familiar tug of overwhelm.
We have orders to to a new place, though not a house to move into (yet).
Our kids don’t want to leave our current home, and the energy required to execute a cross-country move feels out of reach.
To be honest, I overwhelmed by the past and ill-equipped to tackle the future. I’m drained.
2020 and 2021 loom large in the rearview for all of us, but they’re not closer than they appear. They’re in the past.
We did it. We made it.
No matter what lays behind or lingers in the future, we can give ourselves a new beginning.
So I’m “starting the clock” again, making new memories this year, and resolving to reclaim some optimism even as we wade through so much uncertainty.
There’s power and perspective in reflecting on the road behind us, even when we intend to turn the corner and head a new direction.
Now it’s your turn.
What’s the dominant story from your last two years? How has the pandemic impacted your family?
Is it time to reflect on and document it in some way - and then turn the page and begin a new chapter?
Whether it’s in person, in writing, or in your head, maybe it’s worth answering some of these questions to jog your memory.
Then allowing them to be just that - memories.
It doesn’t have to be the beginning of a new year to turn the page on a new chapter, and you don’t need perfect conditions to start fresh.
I hope you’ll consider those memories a chapter in your family’s history, one that acknowledges the good, the growth, and the grief you experienced in those unprecedented years.
And then, when you’re ready, maybe you’ll close that chapter and begin a new one.
Give yourself the gift of a clean slate. Reflect, remember, and move on.
If you’re new here, welcome! This post is a little different from my usual, so thank you for reading.
I help busy folks document their memories, even if they’re many years “behind.”
Get started by downloading my list of 15 projects to help you get caught up on your memories - it’ll get your creative juices flowing!
