I’ve heard and seen many people salute themselves to a New Year’s Resolution throughout the years: the organic section is sold out at local grocery stores, gym membership spots are filled quickly, and household items are gone through and given away. The more I reflect on this idea of a “resolution” I often contemplate our desperate human longing to be perfect, to have a second chance at this messy thing called life. I believe this points us to a greater picture of how desperately our hearts long for something greater. We ache and dream of this perfection deep within our souls. We were created for it. We need a restart, so it stirs within us a hope in the new year, a new chance to change or make up for what you wish you could’ve, would’ve, should’ve done.

I don’t think it is wrong to put hope into a second chance or to yearn for a new beginning. In fact, I think it points us towards eternity. It points our hearts to what we so desperately long for a sinless, perfect world, and being united with Jesus.

Throughout my life, my family has always chosen one word to summarize our New Year’s Resolution each year. This one word can encompass many meanings, but it is generally a way we want to grow personally, physically, spiritually, emotionally.

This year my word is simplify.

Over the past month, I have realized a yearning in my heart for more. But I continued running in the wrong direction. I continued searching for more, rather than less.

Let me explain:

I wanted more happiness. I wanted more of Jesus’ gifts. More blessings. I wanted more favor. I wanted more possessions. I wanted more love. I wanted more friends. I wanted more acceptance. More appreciation. More noise. More events to attend. More. More. More. And the more I got, the more I wanted.

And what I’ve come to understand by this constant life of “more” is how empty I still feel. I defaulted to go mode and hustle: busyness, materialism and “more” was my drug, and I fell for the initial rush every time.

I’ve ignored the commandments of God in order to complete a mental or actual to-do list. I’ve been so committed to proving. I spend more time using people to accomplish my goals rather than taking the time to know their heart. I used productivity to ignore the cold truths about myself. One of the biggest truths being: silence scares me.

I hate silence. I hate sitting still and doing nothing. What even is “doing nothing?” The only time I “do nothing” is when I’m sleeping and even then I’m dreaming about what I should be doing.

Being alone is incredibly uncomfortable for me. But why?

I’ve come to the conclusion that noise is safer for me because there’s always another way out of what I’m feeling. At least when there’s noise I can drown out the truths I really believe about myself with the praise of others. I can drown out the feelings and thoughts of “am I enough? Does someone see me? Do I matter?” with hustle, because maybe the emptiness will never catch up.

But I was wrong.

The emptiness has caught up and I’m calling it out.

The addiction to motion is so deep and so pervasive. My essential self, my best self was someone that [is] slipping away and in her place was someone I [don’t] like very much. She was shaped out of necessity, tough and focused enough to bear the weight. When the real me: tender and whimsical would’ve crumpled under it all.

This year, my goal isn’t to go on an Eat.Pray.Love adventure to “rediscover” the beauty of life. My goal is simple. The beauty of life is already surrounding me. I’ve just flooded myself or rather hidden behind it all through noise and busyness. That’s why this year, my goal is simply to simplify. To turn off the internal engine that wants to go all.the.time. To connect deeper and expand my capacity to hear the people I love. To love Jesus for who he is, not what he’s given me. To put the phone down. To say no to things I didn’t really want to do but just felt obligated to. To go on walks by myself. To turn off the TV and listen to the Lord. To spend time by myself facing truths and stripping off the masks and materials I use to hide behind.

Less one more thing, less cramming 126 hours into a day that’s only ever held 24…less of everything: less hustle, less snapping, less buying, less consumption, less feeling like my mind is fragmented, and my stomach is bloated…

This year it’s time to s i m p l i f y.

*This blog was inspired and quoted from Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist.*

Kali Dunson