In 2020, I was scheduled to speak in western Michigan at the Institute for Theology and Disability. I love thinking about disability theology. I contribute my thoughts about mental health, but I also get to learn so much about things I’m not normally thinking about – things that push me to be even more inclusive and mindful. But it was 2020 and like everything else, it got cancelled.
I got a kind of re-do this year, but the project morphed into a discussion on vocation and disability. So I got to chat with a group of religious leaders and scholars who were thinking together about calling, career, disability, identity, justice and flourishing. Yes, these are the kinds of things we do with a bit of external funding.
In this conversation, the group asked me about capacity. As someone who lives with a depressive condition – honestly, as someone who knows loss and grief – I have to think about capacity. I’m incredibly aware of what I can’t do. I know what I want to do, what I think I should be able to do, what I expect of myself. And I’m also acutely aware of what I can’t do it. And that gap used to frustrate me a lot. Now it only frustrates me a little bit.
I’ve learned to do more when I feel well, and have peace with doing less when I’m not feeling well. This is what I shared with the discussion group.
With ongoing reflection, I think my ideas about capacity have been about what I can do compared to what I want to be able to do. Recently I shifted my ideas about capacity into thinking about what I have done.
I’m one of those people who always wants to do more. It’s not just the societal push for productivity – which is a real thing. I have big dreams and big ideas and I want do learn things and go place and write more. And I’m always aware of what I haven’t done.
So this year, in my annual reflection on the year with my girlfriends, I asked us to think about the past year in a new way. We usually reflect on whether or not we accomplished what we hoped in the previous year. And we think about what we want to do in the upcoming year. And then the goal-setting makes me dizzy.
Instead I asked about what we did: What as the wisest decision I made? What was the biggest lesson I learned? What was the biggest risk I took? What was the best thing I discovered about myself? What am I most grateful for?
It was great to reflect on what I could do. What really big surprising things I did and learned in the last year.
Maybe we aren’t all goal-setters or resolution-makers or over-achievers. No shame. I just wanted to share with you that I found some freedom in thinking backwards before thinking forwards. And thinking about capacity in terms of what I can do – not in terms of what I haven’t done. If you are somewhere setting goals and making resolutions and vision boards, I encourage you to take a couple moments to also remember what you’ve done, learned and/or survived this last year. That counts just as much. Maybe more.
Happy New Year!
Dr. Monica
