A New Year's Resolution for the Rest of Eternity
2024 is the year of being here.
Hello capybaras! Thanks for reading Sleepover. In the spirit of accessibility, this newsletter will always be offered for free. Please consider a paid subscription if you’d like to support the things I create — with and beyond this project.
This New Year’s seemed to arrive faster than the others. Perhaps that has to do with my age, the way the years seem to flash by like a cloud of confetti, each year more difficult to recognize as its own piece of pastel paper as opposed to a detail comprising the cloud itself. As I grow older, my relationship with time continues to transform: my age feels more like a gift than a measure of expectation, previous demands seem trivial, and all I want, really, is the space to watch it go by. In previous years, I jotted down everything I aspired to accomplish in the new year. I wrote lists that ranged from reading books to buying a home, many of which I completed, many of which I did not. Several resolutions have stuck with me over the years, a reflection of my habit for dreaming within unrealistic time frames: part ambition, part delusion.
I still have a list for 2024, but as I sat down to process the previous year and plan the next, I felt remiss of the urgency I used to feel. Many of the goals I wrote down felt symptomatic of a larger intention, an ultimate “resolution” that has, if I stop to consider it, stayed with me since birth: to be here for the life that I am living, to be present for the moments I am given, and to live, every day, as the person I want to be. Things like making more money, publishing a book, learning new skills, adopting better habits, and experiencing more of the world are all descriptions of the kind of life I want to lead, one that is defined by creation, connection, and gratitude. On the days that I am able to pause, recognize the world, and actively participate in what I am living, it becomes clear that I am already leading that life.
Last week I went on a walk with my friend Lewis around Mexico City. The sky spilled light onto the streets with the lazy foot traffic of a Friday afternoon. Between canopies of chlorophyll and telephone wires, we talked about the new year: the places we want to go, the plans we want to unravel, and the people we want to see. The dense smell of street cafes carried us to a fountain orbited by well-dressed couples, dogs with hair brighter than the sun, and families strolling in no particular direction. We sat on a bench and breathed in the day.
The most brilliant relationship you can build is with yourself, he said.
The external world is a large part of our experience: we need money, we want nice things, and we hold onto dreams because they inspire us to keep living. But if I examine the things that I say I want most and why, their shapes start to change. It is not that more money will fix my problems, rather, it will help me feel more free. It is not that being an appraised author will make me fulfilled, rather, it will help me feel more confident in my creativity. And it is not that traveling will take me to a place where everything is better than anywhere else, rather, it will remind me of how big the world is, and how brilliant of a thing it is to find our place in it.
As the green on the trees took a softer shade, we revisited the five regrets of dying people, summarized in a book by Bronnie Ware — I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me; I wish I hadn't worked so hard; I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings; I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends; I wish I had let myself be happier. We both promised each other that we would not end our lives with remorse.
What I dream of, at the core, is being kinder, softer, and truer to myself. This is what I want from this year, next year, and every year after: to be here for everything that I am, everything that I want to be, and everything that the world has to offer.
Thanks for reading the Sleepover newsletter!
Your feedback is always appreciated. Reply to this email or comment on the Substack post to let me know what you liked, what you didn’t like, and what you want to see more of.
With love,
Your favorite capybara ~ AKA Travis Zane
Follow me on: Instagram 🪩 TikTok 🪩 Twitter 🪩 YouTube 🪩 Twitch 🪩 Website
Follow Sleepover on: YouTube 🪩 Instagram 🪩 TikTok 🪩 Twitter
Through cozy content delivered to your inbox every week and pop up parties that turn into sleepovers, Sleepover celebrates connection, creativity, and cultural diversity.