I have a tradition of naming my upcoming year. As one year comes to a close, I reflect on my micro and macro goals and intentions for the coming one. I then choose a name to serve as my north star — it functions as an easily remembered mantra that at any point in the year brings me back to a sense of purpose for 365 days.

Sometimes it’s straightforward, like “2014: Year of Health.” Sometimes it’s more creative, like “2016: Year of the Fearless Panda.” (I was striving to be bolder but Zen, and for some reason it helped to envision myself as a panda bear.) Often, I will make specific goals that fall under the umbrella of the year-title. Sometimes they are grandiose and tangible, like moving to a new city or learning a language. Other times they are small or subjective, like “stop apologizing needlessly” or “challenge yourself to explore things you think you don’t like.”

“Usually when one of us gets out of whack, we can rely on someone else to give us perspective and help us right the ship. But the last few years have put us all out of whack in different ways.”

Unlike random New Year’s resolutions, the goals feel more comprehensively deliberate when compiled under my year-title. And even if I get off track on any particular day or week, all is not lost … it’s about the trajectory of the entire year.

As I was considering my title for 2023, I was feeling a little cynical. Maybe it should be the “Year of Tell Everyone to Stop Complaining and Get on with It.” Or, the “Year of Call People Out for Being Jerkfaces.” Or, the “Year of Yeah, Humans Suck … Why Did You Expect Anything Else?”

I realized, maybe there’s something else I need to acknowledge: Things seem a little out of balance. Is it because I’ve suddenly transformed into a judgmental, misanthropic goblin? I hope not. Is it because we are now plodding toward our fourth year of the pandemic, and this seems to have given the green light for all external sources to bombard us with a tunnel vision narrative of 1) things are awful, awful, awful; 2) it’s not us, but everyone else that’s the problem; and 3) we are powerless to do anything about it?

Yes, that’s probably it.

Look, I get it. COVID-19 has been rough, no doubt. And if you add on all the other junk — climate catastrophes, political mayhem, economic challenges, an opioid epidemic — even the sane among us can feel drawn toward conspiracy theories that propose some explanation (even if crazy) for the chaos.

The pessimism is shoved in our faces at every turn. (Could our ancestors have ever imagined that “doomscrolling” would be an actual verb?) We don’t amplify the moments that unfold with optimism, respect, progress, or the days we feel pretty good. Instead, we focus on the days we feel anxious, sick, tired, angry, overwhelmed. And the more each of us feels a little off, the more we notice it in each other.

Three years of an unexpected pandemic has put us over some imagined threshold where we all feel righteously entitled to constantly complain, wallow in individual and collective pity, and act like assholes … all while pointing accusatory fingers at others and building up bigger walls to insulate ourselves while we do nothing to improve the situation.

Here’s the hard reality check, y’all: This is nothing new. Life has never been a piece of cake for our species. We’d be wise to remember our childhood history classes, and the poisons that have been the norm over the ages: wars, famines, dustbowls, disease decimations, colonial occupations, slavery campaigns … the list goes on.

Have you ever read about the year A.D. 536? When a volcanic fog blanketed Europe, the Middle East and Asia in 18 months of frigid darkness, causing a decade of failed crops and starvation, topped off with a plague in A.D. 541? Joy.

Getting Back Into Whack

Thankfully, we humans are also resilient, and have often trained our collective attention on the betterment of our lot – expanding knowledge, education, health, science, democracy, love. At times, though, in the last three years, I’ve sensed that many people have lost the optimism and hope that drives this collective thirst for betterment.

However, being an optimist (tinged with healthy realism), I don’t think humans have suddenly become worse people. Or, that humanity has lost all of its goodness. I think it’s something fairly simple: Our balance is out of whack.

Now, usually when one of us gets out of whack, we can rely on someone else to give us perspective and help us right the ship. But the last few years have put us all out of whack in different ways. Now we’re collectively whacked, making it that much harder to rebalance. And, looking at the widespread whackness, it can feel like we’re powerless to do anything about it.

I wonder what would happen if in 2023 we didn’t continue to throw up our flabbergasted hands in frustration and instead focused on resetting the balance. First for ourselves, and then by extension, everything else. What might we focus on?

Perhaps for some, eating more fermented foods. Spending less time on screens and media. Seeing certain people more (maybe others less). Consuming less of everything. Cleaning our wheelchairs more consistently. For others, maybe it’s allowing ourselves to ask for help. Sleeping one hour less. Or catching ourselves when we tend towards ranting or complaining with no focus on a solution.

Rather than a resolution we will quickly abandon, we could all set our yearly title of intention. And if we each get ourselves back into whack, then we’ll have the capacity to support others in doing the same. Then our community, country, and the planet.

For me, I think it’s going to be “2023: Year of Investing in Myself.” Not because I’m a narcissist, but because I realize that I need the reminder to take care of myself so that I don’t reach the point of being ill-equipped to cope with the usual junk of life … and support others. That investment might look like trading a meal out for a $10 app to help track my alcohol so I drink a bit less. Getting up 20 minutes earlier so I can stretch daily. Advocating for a higher wage on a project because it’s commensurate with my experience. Or not berating myself when I want to spend an hour looking out the window, thinking. Those are all ways to invest in myself with the ultimate goal of resetting my balance.

So where are you out of whack? What is the balance you need to recalibrate? I would bet that if you focus on that, 2023 is definitely gonna be a better year.

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