It feels like every time I remember to write on this blog is at the start of the new year, when I need a space to write down my resolutions. Of course, I could just scribble the list in a journal or a post it but there’s something consolidating and validating about writing on the internet — not that there is anyone who reads my things, but it feels like private, as though the infinite void of the internet will hold me accountable for it.

At the start of the year, when we were just returning to work from the holidays, our director gathered the few of us for a team meeting as a welcome back and to set our intentions for the year. She shared that the word of resolution comes from the root Latin ‘resolvere’ which means to loosen or to release, in spite of its modern definition of ‘firm decisions to take actions.’ Instead, the word intention, which is so often thrown about in the realm of spirituality comes from the Latin word ‘intentio’ meaning stretching and purpose.

It makes you wonder of all the cultural moments (presumably capitalist-driven) over the past centuries that had informed and evolved this start of the year tradition; from the act of releasing energies, memories and experiences from the past year to start the new one on a fresh chapter to this death-grasp of setting productivity-raising goals for the betterment of yourself or society, just to make the most of the coming year.

I quite like the idea of a lazy internal release of ‘resolvere’ and the gradual determination of ‘intentio’ — and that will be how I will be framing my resolutions and intentions this year:

Resolutions

to let go of the stress that I hold for myself and for others every day
to release myself of the framework that I am not good enough, or smart enough to achieve my desires. I am not particularly smart nor talented — but that shouldn’t stop me

Intentions

to be comfortable in my own skin and body, even if there are bad days. Know that the bad days are simply my body’s way of telling me that I need rest and care.
to find space for myself to be creative, and make the things I want to make
to give myself the chance and opportunity to grow and stretch out my comfort zones.

Practicalities

(Because I still thinking have a checklist for myself to look back on at the end of the year is still useful and interesting to see where my path had gone off track and how my mind and wants have changed in merely 12 months)

Move my parents over to the UK and find a semblance of settling with them.
Start learning British Sign Language
Study up on French again
Join a writing group or class, and finish at least one short story this year
Paint at least 10 pieces this year, with one large painting or a larger project this year
Read a fictional book from start to finish
Drink at least 1.5L of water every day
Be in love, and continue to choose to be in love

If you’re out there reading, what is on your list this year?

Happy holidays, friends, I hope you’re doing well (and if you choose to continue reading, please brace yourself to the incredibly self-indulgent rant below).

Each year, whenever December comes around, time seems to pause, as though to give me the space to look back on everything that’s happened in the past twelve months. However, because of the state of the world, there’s this strangely quiet eeriness that has hovered over us since 2019, as though the year never ended since, and that everything was frozen in time.

Because in a sense, it did. No matter how relatively normal life is in Hong Kong (because “normal” is contributing and sustaining our bustling, non-stop Tetris game of capitalism), Covid halted rapidly-growing movements and triggered endless ever-changing “safety measures” and travel restrictions that no one had the space to breathe and process what had happened. How can one heal from this collective trauma when we are still in the middle of it?

Yet despite this feeling of being held hostage by Covid, 2021 was an extremely eventful year for me both personally and career-wise. And it’s a year that I hope to be a huge turning point when I look back on this year in the future.