New beginnings abound.
It’s the start of 2024, and the sound I hate most in the world — screeching packing tape — has been my soundtrack to start the year. (That, and Jean Batiste’s helpful ballad, Drink Water.) Growing up in an Army family, moving was second nature. We were government-mandated nomads, changing zip codes the way most families changed paint colors. Many friends hung plaques on their walls with the phrase “Home is where the Army sends us” painted in pretty script. Every few summers, packers arrived with their big tape guns, ready to pull and screech, wrapping all our earthly belongings in cardboard boxes to send to the next duty station.
I’m no longer an Army brat, and this move is chosen, not mandated. Our next home is approximately seven miles away, across the river, in a different zip code in the same city. The need for more proximity to school and church drove the decision. As a family, we will gain back more than 2 hours per day of driving time. Ccan you imagine? That’s 520 hours a year! The gain in family sanity will be well worth any budget cuts a new mortgage will require. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. Vacation, smay-cation, right?
Still, the sound of packing tape sends a shiver up my spine. The smell of cardboard flips my stomach. I’m not good at living in the midst of chaos, of flux, of change. I have goals — big ones, and I want to reach them. But how, when half my life is in boxes, and will be for at least the next six weeks?
Over the break, I listened to a ton of podcasts — one of which was an episode of Smartless featuring NBA superstar Steph Curry. The hosts (Sean Hayes, Jason Bateman, and Will Arnett) asked Curry tons of questions about his career, his training, and his personal life. But what interested me most was Curry’s explanation of how the Golden State Warriors approach an 82-game NBA season. Here’s what he said:
“Everybody knows if we don't win a championship, then it's a failed [season] for us because of the standard [we’ve set]. Cool. You can't just come in and say that. There has to be a level of detail of how you approach the year. For us, it's we have to win the week. That's what we call it. So however many games there are that week, it gives you a singular focus on what do you need to do to win the week. We need to have a winning record every week. And that's how you get the little bite size motivation for a nine-month journey.
So there you have it. Under Steve Kerr’s leadership, Steph Curry and the Golden State Warriors approach a long 9-month season by not looking at the whole season. They break it into a managable, bite-sized pieces. They focus only on winning the week.
For me, winning the week means writing 2 pages a day toward my novel-in-progress. (I’m getting soooo close. You all have been so patient!) So, in a 5-day week, if I successful 3 of those days, then I won. Period. For me, winning the week means working out, drinking enough water, and spending time in prayer.
What would winning the week look like for you? What would it mean to abandon the fantasy of perfection and embrace the goal of winning the week?
Maybe 2024 is a year of big change for you, too. Or maybe it’s a year for making incremental daily decisions that will add up to big change over time. Either way, what we know for certain is that the year will not hold what we expect. A new zip code will not solve all of my problems, any more than a new president will solve the country’s. I know from experience that the year will hold tragedy and triumph, interruptions and interstitial blessings. I will win some weeks, I will lose some. 2024 may not be the year I crush it. It may be the year I am crushed. So be it.
I’d prefer to win the week. But even if I lose, I know that life is far less about what I do, and more about where I stand. I stand with friends and family. I stand next to neighbors while our kids play together on the playground. I stand among fellow parents at school pick-up, waiting for our children to push our boundaries. I stand in line at the grocery store, surrounded by strangers. I stand in church, among a congregation of other are hurting, helping, hopeful people.
I do not know what lies ahead. Win or lose, I know that I am in God’s hands, and that is enough.
Recent Favorites
Book: As expected, Ariel Lawhon’s latest, The Frozen River, did not disappoint. This novel, based on the true story of the midwife Martha Ballard is a propulsive read — filled with poignant thoughts on motherhood and justice, all painted within the breathtaking landscape of early America. A murder mystery and rape trial set the scene, but what you’re left with is a heartwarming story of true feminine strength.
Listen: As I mentioned, the holiday season was full of awesome podcasts for me. The best, in my opinion, was Mike Birbiglia’s “Working it Out.” Mike Birbiglia is a comedian and storyteller, and on the podcast he has other comedians join him to “work out” real jokes in real time. Listen to some of the old episodes, and then go watch his latest Netflix Special “The Old Man in the Pool.” You’ll get to see how a writer makes a few spare jokes into a one-hour special.
Purchase: Just kidding! We’re buying a house. I have no money for unnecessary purchases.
Music: Jean Batiste’s album “ World Music Radio.” — In the words of my three year old, “This makes my heart soar!”
One Last Thing
It’s not too late to sign up for my in-person class that starts in February with the Porch. In the meantime, I’d love to hear from you! What would winning the week look like for you right now?
See you in a week.
Loved this, as always! And thank you for your kind words about The Frozen River.
This was so, so great. Used it immediately in coaching my basketball (really, sports)-obsessed 9 year old who is having trouble getting back into the overwhelm of school work this week.
Also, Jon Batiste is EVERYTHING. Can't wait to see him at the Ryman in February!