Goodbye 2024

I like to take some time every December to reflect on the year that’s ending, before I look ahead to the new one about to begin. I know there’s nothing particularly unique about this practice, and turning over a calendar page doesn’t really change anything, but a new year still serves as an invitation to set new goals and dream fresh dreams.

Since I began Ruby Finch Books in June 2023, I’ve been relying more on my intuition. And our intuition flourishes in the quiet. It needs us to mute the many other noises and distractions of our world in order to get cozy enough to hear it whisper.

Our intuition is the way our soul can speak to us. And at the end of this year, I’m loving the time and space I’m taking to ask my soul what it’s longing for. I still feel amazed when I hear my soul speaking to me. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that I’m amazed I’ve finally quieted down enough to listen to what it has to say.

My three words for 2024 were savour, intentional, and receive. All three of them worked on me at various points of the year. I noticed that I really improved at awareness of the present moment I was in. I tried to experience life through my senses more: to awaken my five senses and invite more wonder at being alive. Not in every single moment, because that’s not possible (and some moments are crummy). But in general, I attempted to notice my food as I was eating, my relationships as I was talking and laughing with people I love, and my life as it was unfolding moment by moment and day by day.

Part of this involved savouring, and some of it was setting my intention. Receiving was by far the hardest thing for me to learn. I wrote about it in July. But now, in December, I can see how far I’ve come with this concept. I don’t struggle so hard over my own worthiness. I can feel the love and care and nurture offered to me by others, and it’s so beautiful and inspiring that it can bring me to tears.

This month, we are preparing for our upcoming empty nest when both kids are off to university in January. I’ve gone through lots of different stages with my feelings about this big transition, but now that it’s imminent, I’m feeling mostly at peace. Having a sweet new kitten to spoil is helping. And so is taking the time to imagine a whole new life for just Jason and I at home once again.

I really did love this first full year of running my new company Ruby Finch Books. I published Post Civ, which is the book I’ve longed to write for my entire life, and got it out into the world this fall. It was so exciting to see wait lists for the book at my local library. And to talk to readers who loved it as much as I do. I look forward to more of these discussions next year.

I worked with a lot of libraries in 2024 and can’t wait for more of the same in 2025. Librarians and patrons are truly the best people. And I presented workshops on nurture and wellness to hundreds of teachers at conferences in BC and Alberta, and worked with a lot of writers in my online classes and through Alexandra Writers for the Writing Well series (plus I presented at a big writing conference in Calgary this summer). It’s such an honour to teach. I’ve been so inspired by the people I’ve met through my classes.

I’m excited about my three words for 2025, which I’ll write about here in January. I want to thank each and every one of you for reading my words this year. You mean a lot to me. If anything I write about resonates with you, please drop me a line and tell me. It’s lovely to feel connected to real-live people reading what I’m writing here. And if you haven’t had a chance to subscribe to my free monthly Substack newsletter and podcast, I invite you to join me over there as my company continues to grow.

Goodbye 2024. Thank you for what you taught me. What is your soul saying to you as we close out this year and prepare to move into a brand new calendar year?

Learning to Receive

Every year, I pick 3 words to focus on. For 2024, those words are savour, intentional, and receive. When I picked these words in January, I had a sense that receive would be the hardest challenge for me. And it has been.

But I’m getting there. I’m learning, ever so slowly, that giving and receiving is a dance. For so many years, I was spinning in circles on the dance floor of my relationships, giving and giving and giving and not believing that I deserved to receive from those who loved me.

It’s different now. And better. More balanced and fair. When Jason and I were going to marriage counselling last spring for the first time in our nearly 27-year-relationship, I said to him, “I want a wife to care for me the way I look after you.”

At first, he had no idea what I was saying. It took us both a long time to figure out that I had been so skilled at nurturing him, while simultaneously blocking any attempt he made to be loving and caring back to me. I created a pattern in our marriage where I gave and he received. Over time, this centred his needs and interests over mine.

I was resentful about this. And angry. Our relationship felt lopsided and unfair, and the worst thing was that Jason couldn’t understand why I would be feeling unhappy.

So much of our lives is invisible to us, because we create habits around our patterns. Then we behave instinctively around those patterns, until the inner workings of the relationship dynamics are mysterious to us, even though we were the ones who set those patterns up in the first place.

But 27 years is a long time. He couldn’t see that he was the centre of our relationship, and I couldn’t see that I had been the one to put him there. We were both so lost in trying to reach each other during that painful and isolating time in our marriage.

Until we took a road trip last spring from BC to Alberta, and talked with no distractions for hours on end. Suddenly, we both found clarity on a few of these key issues. He began to understand what I was asking for from him, and I could finally glimpse the inner workings of my inability to receive the care and nurture he had been offering to me.

We both started to change on that trip last June. And now, it’s more than a year later, and I’ve been learning how to receive the care I’ve been longing for. From Jason, from my grown kids, from my close friends. Even from my beloved cat, Teddy. I opened the door that I had closed in order to protect myself from being hurt or let down by others. I started to trust again, and it’s been a beautiful thing.

In my monthly zoom nurture sessions for writers, I’m amazed at how often this issue of giving vs. receiving is coming up. So many women are conditioned to give and not to receive. Sometimes it’s an issue of self-worth and protection, like it was for me, and other times it’s tied to a feeling of obligation, like nurture is a debt we owe to someone else.

I know there is a lot more to discover on this topic. I’m just scratching the surface of understanding how complex and nuanced giving and receiving can be, especially between women and men. I’m so grateful that Jason and I can both see the inner workings a little bit clearer within our marriage, which means we can talk about it openly and make small changes to be sure we are both feeling loved and loving within our relationship.

It’s been a revelation to me, how much stronger and more generous I feel when I practice receiving that love and care from others.