Do you ever read old journal entries or Facebook posts or blogs you wrote and just think “oh, honey.” ???

It happens to me a lot. That’s what you get when you’re a writer, I guess. You’ve documented all your stupid thoughts and then have to live with them, while non-writers are out here saying “Thank the Lord I never shared that phase I have now gladly evolved past.”

It’s ok, though. Because I learn so much from it. Usually. I’m trying to learn something from it right now.

This year my word was Clear. And I remember how I felt when I wrote this blog post about it. But reading those words now, staring down the last few weeks of 2021, I’m not sure how to feel about them.

I thought that Clear meant unhitching the trailer. Getting free and loose and opening up lots of space. We were in our new home. I ditched my dumb uterus. Our jobs were in great places. The pandemic didn’t get the best of us, and there was hope on the horizon.

I saw this year as one where I had an open road ahead, a tank full of gas, and my foot hovering expectantly over the accelerator.

But it wasn’t really like that. I’m no longer sure what Clear was supposed to mean. If I *did* it.

There were a few key wins.

I got clear about what I wanted professionally. I want to contribute and build something cool, not just write off-stage. I left a cushy, comfortable job I loved at Divvy to take one with more risk, more ownership, more opportunity at a startup called Kudoboard.

I got clear about my health and fitness. I had to accept that what I was doing wasn’t working, so I found a new gym that challenged me (hello, Burn Boot Camp) and did some work around my nutrition to operate a little better.

We got clear about boundaries with family, in our marriage, and just personally. It’s one of those things that doesn’t really feel good today, but will help tomorrow. Like getting a root canal. *shudders*

I wanted to hear God clearly. I wanted to see and know with clarity. But instead what happened was a totally different application of the word “clear.” It was a clearing out of beliefs. It was realizing the useless, rotting, fake items in my “faith cart” needed to go, before I got so frustrated that I’d have to upturn the entire cart. It was vigorously sweeping that whole cluttered room, leaving only the heaviest beliefs that couldn’t be brushed away.

I hated it. It was so hard. It’s been so hard. It will continue to be hard. And this was the year for it. This was the year that my faith, or lack thereof, was made clear to me. The year that I cleared away culture, policy, tradition, human frailty.

Somehow it feels muddier than ever.

I don’t have a 5 year career plan.

I don’t have a clear physical goal, like a half marathon or a target weight.

I don’t have a better toolbox for dealing with complex relationship issues.

I don’t know exactly where I stand with God, with the LDS church, with the package deal I’ve accepted since birth.

I am not clear.

And yet.

I feel it working. I feel Him working (or at least I’m choosing to believe it’s Him, and perhaps that makes all the difference). I feel my body changing. I feel my mind stretching, churning. I feel my heart letting go of things I’ve clutched at for years. I feel scales falling away from my eyes, the weight of opinions sliding from my shoulders.

Have I cleared the way enough?

Do I know what I want? Who I am? Who I’ll be?

Have I made it clear?