One Word 2025: A Post Mostly of Pictures

Every year since 2011, I have chosen One Word to travel with me through the year. The practice has been an evolution, to be sure, and it has never failed to add depth, richness and even guidance to my days.

What started as a private practice has evolved over time to one that is more public and communal. In the past few years I’ve written about the One Word practice from various perspectives: in 2022, the difference between a resolution and an intentional One Word; in 2023, process of choosing a word; and in 2024, choosing the challenge you want in your One Word.

In honor of doing this practice for 15 years (?!), I offer this retrospective of my words in pictures and art.

2011 – OPEN

2011: OPEN

This first year, I followed Ali Edwards’ One Little Word practice with monthly prompts all year. I did it with a friend and it was a great introduction to all the directions One Word can take me.

2012 – RELEASE

In 2012, I wasn’t yet making art so I leaned heavily into images I found on the Web which was oddly satisfying (I mean, just look at the eagle being released!). I also followed along with Ali Edwards’ prompts throughout the year to deepen my connection to the sensations of RELEASE.

2013 – SPACIOUS

The SPACIOUS feeling of a jellyfish floating, reflected first in the Airborne routine and then later, in 2018, in the book Octabusy: How To Let Go In A Sea of Doing

Each year, I’d made a playlist for my word (one of Ali Edwards’ prompts) and for the word SPACIOUS, I created a movement routine called Airborne. And interestingly, this image of the jellyfish came up a few years later my collage-illustrated book, Octabusy: How To Let Go In A Sea of Doing.

2014 -- WORTHY

Now a full-on fan girl, I was just beginning to discover Brene Brown’s work in 2014.

In 2014 (my 50th year and one full of challenges and heartbreak), I started with the question, “How do I want to feel?” I had been playing around with several words but in answer to this question, WORTHY was the first thing to come to me.

2015 -- FREEDOM

Interestingly, I find neither art nor pictures from 2015’s year of FREEDOM. It’s not lost on me that a certain somebody launched his presidential campaign that year…but I’m sure there is no connection.

2016 – heARTful

I started making and sharing art in 2016 and this was the first time I made my word (also my first made-up word) into an image. I also made simple mandala images of words for friends and people in the community designed for them to color and create with!

2017 – AWAKE

Rocked by the 2016 election, I chose AWAKE (with a connection to peace) for 2017 and did a few pieces for others’ words, too.

2018 – HEALING

In the wake of the trauma of the right-wing march on Charlottesville on Aug 12, 2017, I chose HEALING for 2018. I also did a series of pieces on healing for a friend who was healing from cancer.

2019 – CLEAR

2019 was the year I began making a community art piece out of words from all of us. Although I did do a piece about my One Word based on a quote from Martha Postlewaite, what I really loved was the process of putting the community’s intention all together.

2020 – CALM

In 2020, the community word piece made space for any additional words. And BOY HOWDY, did CALM ever come in handy as the pandemic descended.

Perhaps a pandemic-inspired CALM piece.

2021 – TRUST

As I fully embraced a solo-preneur business and navigated a broken foot, TRUST and in particular trusting myself was a helpful word to rudder me through 2021. This Trust Yourself print and card is still one of the best sellers in my shop! I also loved the interconnectivity of the group piece.

2022 – GRACE

For 2022, I wanted to feel more GRACE in all three ways: more graceful movement in my body (which was challenged by breaking the other foot in July), more mercy and goodwill for myself and others (river photo by Howell Burnell), and the grace of gratitude. And I love Tiffany Han’s suggestion to “practice under an umbrella of grace” (above is my doodle from my notebook).

2023 – RESONANCE

I started working with Stasia Savasuk in 2022 and discovered a whole new way to embody my One Word: the physical sensation of RESONANCE in what I put on my body!

2024 – FREE

I spent most of 2024 wondering what FREE meant to me. I campaigned and worked for rights and freedoms, but how do I live the verb FREE? It seems that the answer is in my word for 2025…

2025 -- TOGETHER

A draft doodle of my One Word for 2025: Together.

TOGETHER is still coming together for me but I have some glimmers of what it might look and feel like. But one thing’s for sure, I won’t be sorting it out alone.

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How do you want to feel in the new year? What word connects you with something you would like to feel or think or be more? I’ve started designing a piece of art for our 2025 words: leave a comment with yours and I’ll add it to the piece!

What Now? Keep Going Together.

“When you’re going through hell, keep going.” ~ Unknown

It happened when my first marriage collapsed.

It happened when 80% of the company I worked for (including me) suddenly got laid off.

It happened when COVID hit.

And it happened after the 2024 election.

Every time, everything that mattered to me was over. Everything I’d structured my life around fell apart or disappeared. Every time, it felt like stumbling unexpectedly into a dark room: disoriented, confused, afraid.

Every time, I said, “Well damn. What now?”

We’ve all had “What now?” times in our lives. In my experience, the short answer to the question is to keep going.

One of my favorite quotes (oft misattributed to Winston Churchill) is “When you’re going through hell, keep going.”

In the mid-90s when about 50 of my colleagues and I were unexpectedly laid off, we created a group to help each other find new jobs. After a day of stunned astonishment and anxiety, we sat at the company conference table and committed to supporting each other. We all shared what we were looking for and connected each other to our contacts in those fields. We read over resumes and cover letters. We arranged meetings and celebrated like crazy when folks landed a new position.

Don’t get me wrong, it totally sucked. But there was something about taking a deep breath, gathering together, and finding a way through.

Any time I’ve been caught up short by an unexpected and difficult turn of events, any time I’ve asked, “What now?” it’s been similar. I spend a certain amount of time on the floor in child’s pose and then I gingerly look up, find my people and keep going. I never know what the hell I’m doing. I make it up as I go along and then some kind of barely visible path emerges and I just start following it.

This time is no exception.

This election literally brought me to my knees. There was ugly crying and rage screaming. There was a deep desire to rear end cars with certain bumper stickers. There were routes home that I chose not to take so I didn’t have to look at wretched yard signs.

And inevitably, there was “What now?”

This time, the answer is “Keep Going Together.”

Keep Going Together (KGT) is a group of people committed to democratic values, inclusion (particularly of the most marginalized), equity, and local action focused on mitigating harm & suffering in the face of ongoing and increasing oppression in our community.

The mission of this group is to support, protect and provide accountability for each other while also protecting and supporting the most vulnerable and marginalized people and environments in our local area. This is not a group for big national political efforts, organizing protests or boycotts or arguing about political strategy (all worthy things to do!). Instead KGT is a grassroots collective that offers help locally and directly with the intention of reducing harm & suffering.

Our initial idea is to create events and experiences to raise funds and recruit volunteers for local non-profit organizations which will likely be impacted by the incoming political regime.

We have a Facebook group to gather resources and share inspiration and more than 100 of us from all over are there interacting every day. Our first in-person meeting in Charlottesville is on Fri Dec 13 from 4-530pm in the Aldersgate Room at Wesley Memorial United Methodist Church* at which we will talk about where to start.

Heaven knows that none of us has a clue what the future holds. Of course we don’t. But this could be a place to begin walking (or staggering or crawling) through the darkness together.

If this sounds like an interesting answer to your “What now?” I hope you’ll join us. Maybe you want to start a group like this in your area. Maybe you want a group of people to volunteer with for a cause you care about. Maybe you want to just feel less alone. If you are aligned with these ideas, you are welcome. Anybody anywhere can join the FB group and/or our email list. And anyone in Charlottesville can join our planning meeting on Fri, Dec 13 at 4-530pm in the Aldersgate Room at Wesley Memorial United Methodist Church.*

When faced with “What now?” moments, coach Tiffany Han says, “You’re doing great. You’re not alone. Keep going.”

Yes. Here we are. We can do this together.

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*The Aldersgate Room at Wesley Memorial United Methodist Church is at 1901 Thompson Rd but is accessed also via Emmett Street.

Street parking is not available. Please park in the UVA Garage or at the church in spots 1-4 by the steps leading up to the playground and the spots directly in front of the church, spots 29, 31, 32, 33, 34. All other spots are rented until 6pm so are unavailable.

Many thanks to Jan Rivero for arranging the use of the space!

Please RSVP by responding below or emailing me! I'm looking forward to being together!

Aliveness of Differences

“Differences are what make us come alive – in art and in life.” ~ Nicholas Wilton

Quick: what’s the most memorable thing that happened for you this week?

My guess is your answer was something that was different than your usual. Lunch with a friend. An unexpected illness (hi, COVID). Taking a new class. The aliveness of differences is part of the human experience.

Last week, on the recommendation of the gifted painter Howell Burnell, I took part in an online art workshop with Nicholas Wilton and the Art2Life team. Even though I’m not a painter, the experience has changed the way I see art, make art, and plan my days.

One of the first things that Nicholas shared in his opening lesson was that differences are key to making engaging, compelling art. Differences, he says, make us come alive.

Take, for example, Frida Kahlo’s Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace & Hummingbird.

What immediately draws our eyes and attention are the differences: her face and blouse against the black monkey and black cat. The stark curving shapes of her eyebrows and the hummingbird at her throat. The cool colors of the leaves and the warmth of her cheeks, lips and blood. The bright sparkle of the butterflies and dragonflies against the organic textures of leaves and thorns.

You don’t have to know anything about Frida Kahlo or art or anything. Just using your human eyes reveals that the contrasts, the differences is where the energy is in the painting.

The same is true in movement.

One of the things I love most about the Nourishing Movement practice is using different movement qualities. The form may be simple yet we can bring it alive by changing the quality.

A basic walking step can be done small or big, fast or slow, flowing or sharp. We can walk in a linear, rhythmic way or a circular, melodic way. We can move with precision and clarity; we can move loose and sloppy.

Even more energy of aliveness happens when we use contrasts right next to each other: switching cleanly from flow to sharp, linear to circular. Contrasting movements expand movement vocabulary and wake up the whole body. Differences is where the energy is in the movement.

The same is true in life.

Even if you absolutely love your day-to-day routine, nothing enlivens life more than changing it up. Going on a trip or to a party or even walking a different route energizes what is around it. Learning a new skill or making a new recipe or getting a surprise call from a friend juices up whatever else is happening.

Our brains default to habit as an energy-saving strategy which is all well and good for getting stuff done with less effort. But doing even small things in different ways is like sprinkling some cayenne pepper on your pasta: it wakes up the whole experience. Shazam.

Right now, I’m planning a summer trip, ordering tickets to The American Shakespeare Center and setting up a dinner with friends. I’m doing these things intentionally to create differences in my future days. Differences is where the energy is in life.

It may seem like a trivial thing, this aliveness of differences. Why bother, you ask? Why, when the world is burning down is it worth playing with differences? As 20th Century theologian and civil rights leader Howard Thurman said,

“Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

This week, increase your aliveness: play with differences.

The Broken Down Dam of Time

But that was a long time
And no matter how I tried
Those years just flow by
Like a broken down dam ~ John Prine, Angel From Montgomery

I first heard Angel From Montgomery, sung by Bonnie Raitt and John Prine when I was in my late twenties. A challenging relationship was limping to its finish line. The song’s words that spoke to me then were

How the hell can a person
Go to work in the mornin’
And come home in the evenin’
And have nothin’ to say?

The line about years flowing by like a broken down dam hardly registered. It felt like something my parents would say.

But now? Now that line hits me square in the heart.

This week marks the 25th anniversary of my first date with my husband. Twenty-five years. More than 1300 weeks. The dizzying idea of it makes me put my head down.

It’s safe to say that I’m not a nostalgic person. I don’t keep memorabilia or old letters or piles of photographs. It’s frankly not that interesting to me to spend too much time in the past. It seems too easy to slip into romanticizing and painful longing. In fact, the word “nostalgia” is actually a combination of the Greek algos for pain, grief, distress and nostos for homecoming.

Nostalgia was originally thought to be a medical condition – a disease mostly in soldiers that needed to be cured. Adrienne Matei’s piece Nostalgia's etymology Explains Why It Can Feel So Painful explains that after centuries of looking for a medical cause for the feeling – including looking (in vain) for a “nostalgia bone,” the meaning of the word shifted. She writes

...While nostalgia shed its medical connotation centuries ago, its current definition never quite evolved to suit the nuances of its poetic second act. After all, that ineffable feeling of nostalgia extends beyond an affectation for bygone times. … what about the strange homesickness you feel for a place you’ve never actually been, like an island pictured in a magazine or your great-grandparents’ long-gone summer home you’ve only seen in black-and-white photographs? What about that sad wave of wistfulness that reminds you not to take the present for granted and to appreciate every day? What about that tight sensation deep in your gut when your city changes around you, or the feeling of being vaguely melancholy for no distinct reason?

Even as a non-nostalgic person, when I find myself awake in the night, I think about all that’s happened in my past quarter century. The stages with my step-children. The houses we lived in. The cats we cuddled. The places we traveled. The meals we shared. Honestly, it’s incredible – in the true sense of the word, it is impossible to believe.

For me these days, the passage of time is less about remembering the past in any romantic, idealized way. I know for sure that all days are filled with everything: delight and disappointment, hope and despair, excitement and boredom, joy and grief.

For me, it’s more about the breathtaking slipperiness of time. The stunning relentlessness of its movement. And while yes, I know, as my Buddhist teachers remind me, the only time I truly have is this moment, right now. Even so, I am astonished by what has unspooled behind me.

Image: Howell Burnell

I saw a broken down dam once. We were at a state park on a bike ride and we came upon an earthen dam that had burst its bounds. The feeling I had as I watched the enormous torrent of water flow past was not fear or sadness or longing for it to be as it had been. Watching the huge flow of water roaring past, I was in awe.

That’s what the passage of time is for me: not nostalgia, not idealization, not wanting to be anywhere else. The passage of time and life itself fills me with breathtaking awe. You were right, John Prine. It’s just like watching a broken down dam.