Since 2016, I have selected a “theme,” an intentional declaration of what I’d like to cultivate more of in my state of being. In the past, I have chosen Faith, Ritual, Consistent, Grace, Authenticity, and Patience.

How do you come up with a yearly theme?

In seven years of practice, I find it’s best to leave my theme to chance. A word repeating over and over in my mind without any notable trigger. A feeling when I hear someone else say the word, as if I’ve just heard my name across the room from a stranger. A whisper that still my internal monologue, if only for a moment.

Listen is a word that has mocked me, made me feel small, taunted me with its unattainability, and humbled me right when I thought I was “getting it,” whatever it was.

But, listening has given me the greatest gifts in life —

• music (singing is one of the few things that saves me every single time)

• love (a quiet man let his heart beat close to me and that’s when I knew)

• conversation (it strips down my loneliness so I can see my troubles clearly)

• intuition (what started as a whisper is now the bandleader)

Ask any of my teachers, my parents, any authority figure who has felt personally victimized by my inability to follow procedure. I imagine they would tell you that not only did I not listen to instructions, I also didn’t listen to the scolding I received after the fact. And I probably didn’t listen to the training received prior, either.

Whether it’s ADHD (a diagnosis which finally helped me to love myself for who I am) or a mix of experiences that shaped me this way, listening is my weakest sense.

My themes are always something which I hope to improve or finesse in myself. Now that I look back, each year has a tendency to build on the ones that came before it.

1. Without patience, I wouldn’t be able to sit still long enough to hear much of anything, let alone to internalize and understand.

2. Without authenticity, I wouldn’t have the confidence to filter what I’m hearing through my own sense of truth and justice.

3. Without grace, I wouldn’t have what it takes to accept my misunderstandings and misbehaviors and to learn from them.

4. Without the ability to be consistent, almost none of my now ingrained healthy habits and practices would be there to nurture and soothe me when the world becomes overwhelming.

5. Without rituals, I wouldn’t have the foundation upon which I can build a life rich with new knowledge and challenges.

6. Without faith, I wouldn’t believe that I could what I set my mind to in the first place.

How do you remember to keep your theme present in your life?

I am both privileged and cursed to work from home, at my laptop, for my job, education, creative outlet, and my career (which is different from job). The above vision board is the background of both my personal and work laptops and that’s the start of keeping listen top of mind.

Everything takes practice. In earlier years, I had activities planned that helped me integrate my theme into my days early in the year with the hope that the habit would continue long after the engagements lost interest. I’d select books to read, topics to learn about, movies to see, adventures to have, tasks to complete at home ~ anything which embodied how my life might look if I’d already spent a year with that intention.

That’s the trick of vision casting, isn’t it? I started vision casting after someone asked me (a.) if I’d ever done it and (b.) could I whip up an activity for a blog post as part of a content marketing calendar.

vision is always in the present tense

If you’re seeing it in your minds eye or curating it on the page (screen) in front of you, the things you’re seeing are in the present tense. They’re a present tense for a different time period, but they’re still an illustration of the “now” you’re imagining.

When I imagine the present tense of a year of cultivated listening, I imagine:

• The sound of the sourdough starter when it’s bubbly and ready to bake bread.

• Heeding the call of my heart to adventure and travel beyond the fear the pandemic has instilled in me.

• Quiet mornings shelving books and connecting readers with their next great world.

• Being a human sponge, internalizing teachings materializing in real time.

• Closing my mouth and taking a breath while in conversation with others.

• Shutting down my internal monologue to be full present with those engaging with me.

• Receiving gifts of inspiration for anywhere and everywhere.

• Solitary afternoons learning clumsily to play piano (again).

• Recognizing opportunities for personal atonement and growth.

• Encountering each person with the knowledge that they too, like me, are struggling.

I could go on — and I do because I write these entries largely for myself. But always when I do something for myself, it is amplified and made far more impactful when packaged and delivered for someone else. Do you feel this way, reader?

The song ‘Listen’ from the musical Dreamgirls is source this year’s theme quote.

It’s hard to top last year’s Khalil Jibran quote on faith but if you’ve never heard Beyoncé absolutely belt this song out in the 2006 movie adaptation, I strongly recommend.

This song comes as her character Deena Jones is finally breaking free from her controlling husband. She has an incredible talent and has been building her courage throughout the story and the raw emotion in these lyrics has always brought me to tears.

I’m grateful not to have a controlling partner but there is someone very, very controlling in my life: me.

I am my own jailer, always the bad cop, conditioned for nearly thirty years, like every other human, to harm myself before anyone else can harm me first. It will always be me who reprimands, cuts myself down, reminds myself of my place, and reiterates past harmful edicts because, at least it’s the devil I know.

After years of therapy, I know now that my self-treatment is not to hurt me, but to protect me.

When I am terrible to myself, I know it’s coming. When others are terrible to me and I didn’t see it coming, I am almost always left demolished in my own wake. The shock of it kills me every time. I’m still reeling from the last great betrayal, nearly a year in the past.

When it comes time to listen to my own voice, I want to be focused and present enough to hear who is speaking and to comprehend why before spiraling out of control.

Herein lies the nuance of what we choose to make of our theme. If you know me, you know I’m a Scorpio Rising and a Pisces Sun and I like to go deep.

Setting my yearly intention to listen invites a host of opportunities for me to listen newly, differently, more compassionately, without judgment, and within my own boundaries of safety. I decide not only when to listen but also what to take with me moving forward.

In the professional sphere, I want to become a better active listener to my clients, prospects, and colleagues.

In the creative sphere, I want to become a better student of the masters living and working around me.

In the career sphere, I want to cultivate an ear for inspiration, refinement, and connection.

If you’re interested in vision casting or developing your own yearly theme:

Try vision casting to compliment planning & goal setting.

And, to go straight for the yearly theme, make your theme your guide in this planning exercise.

Do you have a yearly planning practice that anchors you? Do you have a word dancing in your mind right now? I’d love to connect with you in the comments below.