“Greta Thunberg is Time’s 2019 Person Of The Year” - NBC News, Dec 11, 2019.  

And so she should be. The 16 year old Swedish climate activist, mobilized a very capable army of young people from around the world to stand up to global environmental abuses and demand lawmakers fight the catastrophe that is climate change with more than empty promises and rhetoric. In the political arena, Greta Thunberg is a lion in a room full of squirrels, with science and the voice of Gen Z behind her. She regularly leaves politicians licking their wounds and scrambling on twitter while she carries on, steadfast as a zero emission sailboat on calm seas.  Just as HBO left millions shaking under their blankies every time a character on Game Of Thrones uttered “winter is coming”, Greta has us trembling in our new vegan leather boots with her warning; the future is coming.  It’s hard to argue  - she’s had a big year. But I wonder if there might be room for another “Person Of The Year”? Greta has exercised her influence on a massive scale, but as the year comes to a close, there is a smaller force I find myself taking the time to consider, and dare I say, celebrate. 

“Carol Sloan is No-Particular-Magazine’s 2019 Person Of The Year” - Dec-something, 2019.

Obviously I’m flattered.

Time magazine’s ‘person’ is largely considered the entity that defines the year. This person, group, idea, or object is chosen because "for better or for worse... has done the most to influence the events of the year".  And let me tell you, for better or worse, I have had a pretty big impact on the events of my 2019.

Looking back over a year can be both exhilarating and painful at the same time - like a roller coaster with sticky brakes and awkward corners. As a culture, we are obsessed with looking back over the years headlines while simultaneously daring to look forward. Sentimental Top Ten lists sit like cake toppers above real news captions and for a time, after harried holiday schedules, many of us rest, reflect and plan ahead. It’s a magical time, if really taken in.

I am awarding myself “Person Of The Year”, alongside Greta of course, for the wee successes and moments I contributed and surrendered to.  What will next year look like if I reflect on these special moments and attempt to repeat the best of me? I hope it’s a year that sees me improving upon my character as much as my accomplishments.  

When I think of the past year, I am choosing not to comment on my weight, my consumption of alcohol or sugar, my finances, my use of mild or shocking profanity in times of stress (or in times of ordinary wakefulness), my split ends, the number of times I ignored a ringing phone, yelled at my kids, or rolled my eyes every time someone asked a stupid question.

Someone:   “Is it cold out?”

I stand before them in my winter parka pulling frozen eyelashes from my cheeks and breaking icicles off my bangs.

Me:  (eye roll) “A little, yeah.” 

Let’s face it, I have not influenced any global, national, or even municipal events of the past year. At most, I have impacted a few minor household events; birthdays, a couple of doggie baths (very much an event) and the execution of laundry day - definitely ‘event’ status.  Most other occasions I avoid like shopping carts with rogue wheels. I just can’t. But I do know that I have been the primary influence over how I handle events - global, household, and otherwise.  My family and friends have helped me throughout the year, keeping my ship on course, but frankly, I am the whole boat, compass and captain of this ship. I can really mess things up for myself if I’m not careful. 

The little things that have made my year complete seem oh-so-ridiculous but I think worth a second thought. One morning I remember in particular, the song “Circles” by Post Malone came on the radio and I screamed in my car.  A vein popping, cattle calling, rapturous holler and fist pumping ‘YASS!!!’ burst out of my face.  It felt as good as any pillow scream or run around the block.  I reacted, or overreacted, to the playing of this song because it was exactly what I needed to start my day - an off-key sing along in the car with my favourite artist and his bewildering face tattoos.  The Universe needed to hear how much I appreciated this personal gift and the expulsion of that forced air actually felt quite liberating. Music is proven to elevate your mood, increase your heart rate, and stimulate the pleasure centers in the brain that release dopamine. I am my “Person Of The Year” because I NEVER waste an opportunity to improve my mood. 

A few months ago I found myself stopped at a stop sign on a not-so busy side street as I raced to work. Despite being late, I sat at that stop sign a little too long and stretched my neck over the dash to watch a few minutes of an exceptional sunrise, one that had set the hood of my car on fire with it’s morning glow.  The massive sun rose up in front of me like an over-sized cosmic hand, urging me to stop where I was and take a breath - so I did. I am “Person Of The Year” because there are times when I know being five minutes late for a job is worth it for the experience of watching two minutes of a sunrise. To go from racing through the streets, swerving around corners and smiling like the Joker at every yahoo I passed, to being at a dead stop watching the sun slowly reveal itself like a hide-n-seeker coming up for air after falling asleep in the best hiding spot ever, is something I never thought I would ever do.  Being this cheesy and admitting it is worth some kind of recognition.

If I really want to smile about 2019, I think about sitting on the couch in the TV room with my husband and kids on a Friday night taking turns playing music videos on a Smart TV that I really don’t know how to use.  I’ll ‘Ok Boomer’ myself on that one. We like to play a little game where we each get a turn playing a video based on a theme or question.  “What’s your pump up song?  What song do you love but are embarrassed by? What’s your favourite video?” Most questions are controlled by my husband, an 80’s VJ at heart and a game show host by nature. When the house is filled with the sound of your teenagers belting out the dicey lyrics to one of the songs you picked - about driving a moped, you know it’s gonna be a good night, and possibly, a good life.  

“I got one girl, I got two wheels

She a big girl, that ain't a big deal”  - Downtown by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis

And so, I am “Person Of The Year” because I made those kids and they are a good time, even when they blast Nicki Minaj and Kanye in my face just to see me blush.  To be fair, my husband is more fun than I am and could probably take more credit for their dispositions but until he writes about them himself, I’ll take the credit. Keeping them close lights a small warm fire inside me that is life sustaining. I want to be “Person Of The Year” for not pushing them away with rules about music, and sharing.

The year that just passed has not been without its challenges but, these moments when I chose to let go, paused to look around, or stayed home and let family happen are the ‘events’ I want to punctuate.  Worry, sadness, selfishness and my need to hurry or control things could easily have ruined any one of those memories. If only a few times this year I managed to let music start my day instead of negative self-talk or self-inflated busy-ness, then I am better for it and hopefully, everyone around me benefited.  The one time I let the sun slow me down, I hope I talked about it and reminded someone else to slow down. All those nights I stayed up giggling uncomfortably as my kids played rap music with curse words and shaking booties are the nights I got to peek into the lives of my teenagers, who love to live with the blinds down sometimes.  I remind myself from time to time that the laughter was more important than the f - bombs shaking our windows. I swear I heard the church roof blow off a few streets over.

At this holiday time and year end, looking forward and back, and struggling to live in the now is nothing new.  Charles Dickens took the world through an early exercise of self-reflection with his character Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol;  the legendary haunting tale of a penny-pinching curmudgeon being given one last chance to make his life worth something. The idea of ghosts from the past, present and future visiting to teach Scrooge, or rather humanity, a lesson, is a gripping tale of urgent self reflection.  In the best of times, in the worst of times, how well I cope with loss, stress and even trauma, is a direct result of the current condition I am in. To celebrate, or simply remember the times when I let myself enjoy a moment is to value the building blocks of a better version of myself; the self that can be of use to others. To be organized and thin doesn’t likely have much benefit or impact on family or community the way a happy me, nurtured by sunshine and silliness, does. 

“... there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humour.”

― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

I will open my window and throw back the sash (the what?) to welcome a visit from all my ghosts.  I believe the past makes us wise; the future makes us think, but the present is in constant danger of going unnoticed.  We can either wait for the present to have meaning when it arrives at memory, or we can breathe it like air and live a little.  I want to be my “Person Of The Year” for all the times I lived a little - and maybe it was just a little. It’s not always easy to do when life is giving you speed limits, lists and global tragedies to tend to.  For now Greta, I’ll take runner up but look out - the more fun I have, the stronger I get. I may not be a lion in a room full of squirrels but for now, I’m happy to be a bad rapper in a room full of teenagers.

Merry Christmas! And take care of yourselves :)

By Carol Sloan

By the time Canadians reach 40 years of age, 1 in 2 have—or have had—a mental illness. - Smetanin et al. (2011). The life and economic impact of major mental illnesses in Canada: 2011-2041. Prepared for the Mental Health Commission of Canada. Toronto: RiskAnalytica.

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