Since 1999, I stopped doing new years resolutions and introduced themes. They’re much easier and manageable, not to mention realistic, as I strive to grow into the human person I want envision myself to be.

Boom, Onward and Upward, Phenomenal, Spectacular Spectacular, Faithful are just a few of the themes I incorporated into my life. 2011 was a bit different. I chose, “The Year that I…” and let my actions define the theme to see what emerged out of my life. Truthfully, I was a bit disappointed with myself because the year wasn’t as defined as I would have liked. There wasn’t one particular milestone that stood out, which leads my sometimes Type A self to come own unnecessarily harsh and lambaste the past 365 days.

And then I take a closer look.

This was the year I watched my sisters get married.
This was the year of watching 4 of the closest women in my life get married, one of the including my own sister. The other three – Tricia, Amanda, and Claire – are the dearest friends of mine from different parts of my life. Tricia, my best friend from 11 years old. Claire, one of my closest friends out of college with whom I’ve shared incredibly powerful traveling trips. Amanda, my best friend from graduate school. And then my very own sister, Carmen, who shares the same blood as I. My sisters, in every sense of the word, got married in 2011. These four weddings alone – Canton, Ohio; Louisville, Kentucky; Madison, Wisconsin; and Honolulu, Hawaii – defined an emotionally powerful era in my life.

This was the year I edited my first book.
The Dear Sister Anthology is a work that will define my life and I have spent the better part of 2011 in the depths of rape and sexual violence. Reading, rereading, editing, and working with over 40 writers and artists to refine their trauma into a letter, poem, or essay changed me this year. It confirmed my identity as an activist for which I have defined as actively participating in the world to witness or cause a transformative, societal, or cosmic disruption which contributes to the evolution of the human species toward a more loving and just existence. Working to end gendered and sexual violence has taken me in 2011 to present at the Civil Liberties and Public Policy Conference and further engage other activists and students with the voices of survivors who have and will continue to light their own path of healing. Dear Sister, I promise you, will be published/available/distributed in 2012.

This was the year I shifted within make/shift.
Since November of 2007, I began editing with make/shift magazine, the leading independent feminist voice in the world (in my not so humble opinion). How make/shift unhooks itself from mainstream and kyriarchal practices of editing and publishing has clearly defined my path as both an editor for Dear Sister and a writer. Making the transition from front of books editor to contributor and supporter has been difficult. How does one walk away from a consistent source of inspiration? Well, you measure priorities and then you wake up to the opportunities the seed themselves along the new soil that the hard decision cultivated. My son, my partner, my writing, Dear Sister, and my work as a minister called me to reevaluate my role within the magazine. And true to form, Jess Hoffman, my life “editor” (one who builds relationship and brings out your personal best) embraced my process and welcomed my shift. It was so Jess, so make/shift.

This was the year I created and hosted my first retreat, Abundance, in my own home.
Three of the most respected writers and activists on the planet traveled from Michigan, North Carolina, and New Mexico to spend a weekend of reflecting, connecting, and loving each other. Connected by passion, words, humor, dancing, and food, we strengthened a bond based on abundance, a theory/perspective springing from the ideology there is more than enough in this world and we need not fear or hoard or dismiss ourselves in the practicing and living out of that belief.

This was the year I ran my first road race.

This was the year I created women’s ministry in my profession.

This was the year l grew as a photographer; photographing another wedding and learning more about lomography.

This was the year I began regularly tweeting.

This was the year Facebook started seeing less of me.

This was the year that I let the pristine and saintly illusion of motherhood permanently die. My responsibilities and blessings of family led me to drop the towel covering the naked, vulnerable, and defensive part of me and let the world know who I am: an amorphous vegan, a sensitive mother, a hot mess of a life partner, a patient of a mental health counselor, by day – a sure footed minister, by night – a less certain writer. I began being less afraid to tell the truth because the truth was so obvious it seemed almost ridiculous to keep any kind of farce in my life. This was the year of recognizing two options and choosing the latter: pretending I’m super woman or asking for help. I hired individuals to help care for Isaiah, my home, and accepted that co-parenting means Isaiah has equal bonds with mother and father. (That can be hard when you’re raised to believe mothers are the heart of the family and allowing TWO hearts to pulse for your family.) All of this and more meant laying my Martyrdom Mom identity in a casket. I want to live my life for my son, not give it to him with resentment.

I learned from 2011 that the more you say NO, the more my YES’s mean. Relationships, projects, money, even goals themselves increase in the quality of attention paid to them when I flip my turning signal on less frequently and drive further down the main artery of my life. Which leads me to my 2012 theme: Simplify.

2012 is the year that will grow two facets of my core identity: writing and health. Last year took a lot out of me. I was there for so much for others that I didn’t give myself the time I personally needed, which includes rest and nothingness. The only things I am saying yes to in 2012 are activities and demands which directly feed either my writing or health. Specifically, I will say no if it doesn’t help me publish or distribute Dear Sister and/or write my memoir, or help me train for a triathlon. This means saying No to photography gigs that would make me more money. This means saying Yes to organizing and redecorating my office so I have more motivation and clarity to read. This means saying No to superfluous activities which I enjoy so I have ample time to dedicate what I most hunger: creativity and balance.

2012: Simplify means stripping down the excess of my life so all that is left in December 2012 are two towers of gleaming accomplishment: my internal and external work of art.