My Word of the Year for 2024

I have a soft spot in my heart for the paintings of Mark Rothko. I crush on all abstract expressionist art, but Rothko’s big walls of color truly send me. 

I even have a doesn’t-do-it-justice print of his hanging in my yoga lounge which doesn’t even begin to… Whatever.

So when I read this Washington Post review of the current Rothko exhibit by Sebastian Smee, I so wished I were rich enough to go buy a flight to Paris to see this  “once in a generation” exhibit. 

For example, here’s how Smee describes standing in front of a Rothko painting:

…although many feet separated me from it, it seemed improbably close. Elements within it appeared to move, imperceptibly, in front of me. The air between us was charged with dancing particles, and for a second there — as you do in moments of intense intimacy — I think I stopped breathing.

Geez oh man.

For days after reading this review, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I’d love to simply jet off to Paris for the weekend to see this Rothko show. But this is impossible. It’s what rich people do, not me. But what I wouldn’t give…

Just for fun, I went online and specked my ideal, rich AF trip to Paris. What would it actually cost if I had the money and the gonads to do it?

Weirdly enough, I found you don’t have to be rich to do this. I could swing the money, but could I to do it by myself?   

I floated the idea by G, but I knew she couldn’t go because she’s in season now. Not to mention, she’s not a big fan of standing in dimly lit museums staring reverentially at art. 

 Nikki was game, but her hand is still wrapped from surgery, and she has tons of PT in her future.  

I told Emily how I had specked out this whole thing, and she said, “I’LL GO!!!” (caps intentional). 

My first thought was: “Holy shit, this could happen.”

But how? How did this happen?  How did this zany idea of jetting off to Paris for the weekend morph from fantastically frivolous to a real possibility? 

It happened because I asked, “What if?” and then did the research.

The question, “What if?” worked on my self-limiting belief the way “Abracadabra!” made the rabbit disappear from the hat.

All I had to do was ask it.

And then (most importantly) take it seriously.

Then, Voila! I got my answer.

I am now committed to ‘what if?” as my question for the year 2024, and maybe for the rest of my life. I am going to put every self-limiting belief to the test.

What if I could

What if I had

What if I were

What if I weren’t

What if I started

What if I stopped

What if I did

What if I didn’t

What if I closed

What if I opened

What if I stayed

What if I left

What if I tried

What if I failed

Examples: 

What if I could fly to Paris for the weekend? What if I had enough money? What if I were brave enough to go by myself? What if I weren’t afraid?

What if I started a serious exercise program? What if I stopped drinking? What if I did yoga every day? 

What if I stayed in Mansfield? What if I left?

I could ask “What if? for everyday, low-stakes things, too. 

What if I could just take a breath when I’m late for yoga while I sit three trucks deep at the light? 

What if I could relax at the prospect of having a little get-together at the house?

I think Byron Katie has this exact technique in her toolbox. It’s the trick of asking if the opposite of the thing I believe to be true, could also be true.

Because most of us believe stuff that may or may not be true. We have built for ourselves internal electric fences that buzz whenever we try something new, believe something new, go and do something completely not us.

Psychologists called these self-limiting beliefs.

The What if? question challenges them.

What if I quit my job, got married, had a baby, left my husband, bought a house, sold a house, moved across the country, opened a business, started a novel, retired, admitted I was gay, kicked my kid out of the house, confessed to a lie, switched jobs, went back to college, quit college, got a dog, made less money, made more money, etc. 

What if I could… take a breath? 

What if I could …just relax?

What if I could go to Paris?

What if I could deactivate the electric fence?

I can.

I did.

I’m going to Paris.

Fondation Luis Vuitton. Rothko Exhibit.