he new year
promises
reinvention: a clean
slate, a fresh start, a chance to try again. But this year, that feels less like a dramatic makeover and more like a quiet, necessary reset. The kind you only notice once you’ve done it.
Sometimes life gets so cluttered (emotionally, mentally, digitally) that you don’t even realize how much noise you’ve been carrying. Until you stop.
A few weeks ago, my mom’s television lost its sound. She pressed every button on her collection of remotes, cycling through settings and sources, hoping to fix it. But nothing worked. Finally, in frustration, she unplugged the whole thing. Waited. Plugged it back in. And just like that, the sound returned.
I’ve been thinking about that ever since. How, sometimes, the only way forward is to power down. To give it (whatever “it” is) a moment to breathe.
My own version of unplugging? Declare email inbox bankruptcy.
About once a year, I scroll through the last few weeks of emails, maybe a month’s worth if I’m feeling ambitious, and then: delete all. Thousands of unread, unimportant, outdated messages vanish with one click. Is it a permanent solution? No. I’ll still try to unsubscribe. I’ll still promise myself I’ll do better next time. But deep down I know: I won’t. And that’s okay. Not everything demands a response. Some things just need to go.
T
Photo Credit Macarena Navarro