The New Year.

I’ve situated myself in a familiar place, at the table next to my front window, where I can look up and find words in the light sway of the oak branches. I’ve been here dozens of times before, settled into the rhythm of writing what I’m processing, hoping that in the sharing it can somehow tug at something inside you, too. That’s what we always intended for our blog, for us to give you a peek into our lives and what goes on behind the curtain here at Our Heiday, the dance we’re constantly learning. It’s felt impossible in the past couple of years to find space for this to happen while adjusting to life and work in the new normal. I’m hesitant to refer to the terrible c-word, but here we are beginning the third year of the pandemic and finding that there’s empowerment and comfort in choosing old rhythms again, even if to a different tune. A recommitment to the blog, a recommitment to finding community with you, dear reader, who chooses to find your way back here. While we won’t be writing weekly, you’ll find us in a more sustainable flow of writing monthly, things we’ve let marinate for a good while - it tenderizes, you know.

image by es lee

In Korean tradition, January 1st is always marked by festivities and celebration. Can you soak the dduk and arrange the banchan? Yesss, your mom’s galbijjim. Mama, can I wear my hanbok again this year? The clanking of dishes then wine glasses, envelopes exchanged with crisp bills and blessings - saehae bok mani badeuseyo, have much luck in the new year, we say again and again. The older I get, the more I recognize the complexities of wishing happiness and blessings upon one another and receiving it in the same spirit. How does one hold those words when facing the loss of a loved one or walking through a diagnosis? Last Christmas, we were raw with grief having lost a baby boy we thought we were going to adopt after a year of doing life as a family, the new year a couple of weeks later was hardly any different. 

Pretty sure I took the wine over the blessings.

As much as I love traditions, I’m determined to have them take shape to our realities; facing a new year can be fighting for joy as we sit together in sorrow. Like now, as we start again with covid, warped into another unwelcome presence. Exhausted. Like now, as some we know are preparing to say goodbye to their lifelong partner. Anguished.

But joy, she’s always ready to be found when we’re seeking and the courage to squint our eyes toward the horizon requires hope. Hope for what’s ahead, hope because of what’s been done. How joyful this year was, how redemptive. As I watch my belly swell with life, counting down the weeks till we welcome baby girl in February, I’m completely humbled by the mystery of it all (how is this my life??). Our smiles reached our eyes this Christmas.

photography of our family by meiwen wang

Friends, there are so many exciting things ahead for us in 2022. We’re navigating work and life as mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, and business owners as we’ve always been, refining what it means to embody all of these identities at a pace of life that allows us to thrive. More on this monthly, we promise. I want to share so badly an announcement about something just around the corner, but we still have to wait - make sure you’re following along so you don’t miss it! Until then, mark your calendars for the newest collection releasing this Thursday, 01/06. If you haven't signed up for your newsletter, now might be the time - our best things head out there first.

see you in a month,
pat