Young Adult
There is a practice that has been circulating in the Catholic world for a while: choosing a “Word of the Year” to be a theme in prayer for the year that lies ahead. When I first heard about the practice, I was skeptical. Wouldn’t it make more sense to choose a word that sums up the year you just had, not the one that still lies uncertain in the future? But I tried it, and I loved it, and this is the 10th year that I have chosen one.
People choose a word of the year in different ways — you can even find a “Word of the Year Generator” online, courtesy of comedian Jennifer Fulwiler. I like letting the word arise from what’s been going on in my life and prayer leading up to the new year. Usually what happens is that sometime near the end of November, I remember that a new year is coming soon. I start paying attention to what words have been striking me recently — in prayer, in songs, in books, in conversation, in YouTube videos — anything that’s been hitting my heart. Usually, a few words rise to the surface. I start to weigh those options and gradually (or quickly) find that one of them stands out the most.
That word becomes my theme for the upcoming year. My word of the year has not been a daily dictate, or an all-pervasive thing. It has been more of a broad-strokes lens, a perspective to keep in mind throughout the events of the year. I’ve had words like “beloved,” “reality” and “restore.” In 2021 my word was “victory,” and I loved it. It reminded me of World War II stories and keeping morale high and that, even if I can’t see it from the trenches, victory is already won. In 2023, my word was “comedy,” and that was another one of my favorites. For an overly intense and introspective person like me, reminding myself of the lens of comedy was a great way to keep my perspective grounded as well as hopeful.
Generally, I prefer this practice to making a New Year’s resolution. Beginning a new habit at the shiny beginning of a new year makes it all the harder for me to get back up and try again the first time I inevitably slip up. Making resolutions when they occur to me generally means my mistakes are a little easier to accept and to come back from.
This year though, it seems that a New Year’s resolution has snuck in with my word of the year.
I’ve written here before about one of my favorite YouTube channels — Yes Theory. It’s a channel run by a group of friends that believe “life’s greatest moments and deepest connections exist outside of your comfort zone.” This past winter, inspired by their courage and their M.O. of “seek discomfort,” I decided my Lenten penance would be to do one thing outside of my comfort zone every day.
It was a beautiful Lent. A lot of my “seek discomfort” choices were very, very small. I have high anxiety, so it’s not hard to find things that are outside of my comfort zone. But some of the choices were bigger and led me to things like a weekly artist’s small group that has become a really important part of my life. But all of it — the big choices and the little ones — shifted my daily perspective. The simple daily choice to embrace discomfort left me feeling happier, more free and more peaceful. It was a Lent that was full of new life.
All of that has been on my mind again lately, and I think it’s time for a “seek discomfort” year. The word that has been coming up in my life is “ask,” as in, “Ask and you will receive; seek and you will find.” But this word will entail a new year’s resolution: Do something outside of my comfort zone every day.
I know there will be days when I will fail. I know that most of the days that I succeed will not be flashy or impressive. But I also know that trying again every day is worth it and that it will help me to change and grow. I am not aiming for a perfect record or bragging rights. I am aiming for the mindset shift that only comes with practicing something over and over again — and especially practicing it again after you have failed. My “seek discomfort” Lent was not a perfect record — there were days when I failed to push myself, but I kept going and it changed my life. I think what happened in Lent will happen again — in a new and hopefully even deeper way. Daily pushes outside my comfort zone will make me less likely to stay and stagnate there. I will grow as a person; practicing courage will help me to become more fully and authentically myself. If a “seek discomfort” Lent changed my life, I have to imagine a “seek discomfort” year will, too. I have no idea what that will actually look like. But I am excited to find out.
Catholic Herald Young Adult columnist Jacinta Van Hecke took this photo of Fort Point under the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco this past spring during one of her “Seek Discomfort” adventures. (Photo by Jacinta Van Hecke)
