Does anyone feel like Q1 is an all out sprint? I used to think that was because I worked in food retail, where the dual gauntlets of Thanksgiving and Christmas left us stumbling into the New Year with sore feet and fried nerves only to crash land into a maze of mini-holidays (see Superbowl, Valentine’s Day, and St. Patrick’s Day). Now, I think it’s the natural rhythm of corporate culture, where we spend Q4 both sprinting to “wrap before the holidays” and engaging in mass procrastination by suggesting that we “circle back after the new year”. Inevitably it seems, we emerge from the swirl and sparkle of December to find ourselves in the harsh light of January, with its fervent demands, resolutions, and company priorities.
This charge into the new year aligns annually with the peak of my ski patrol commitments, meaning that after long weeks at work, I drive two hours to the mountain to start my second job. And this February, I’m throwing a move to a new apartment and additional responsibility at work into the mix. It’s a lot. I cried hard at the end of the workday yesterday because honestly, it’s too much.
I’ve been saying that more lately: “It’s too much”. In some ways it’s been freeing to name the burden and be more honest about how overwhelming it all feels, but at other moments, I’ve wondered if it’s actually a helpful framing. Readers and writers in this community already know this well, but our words don’t just describe the world, they create it. Our chosen words, whether spoken or held in our hearts, are the latticeworks upon which our worldviews are grown and shaped. Every time I tell myself that my life is too much, or repeat in my mind “I’m so anxious”, those things become a little more true.
I was fortunate to work with a brilliant therapist in college who introduced me to confirmation bias by explaining that “we constantly seek evidence for what we believe”. Our minds work tirelessly to affirm our chosen narratives, and over time, we tend to surrender our agency to this path of least cognitive resistance. Our media consumption is no help to us here, as algorithms serve us more evidence for whatever story we are most vulnerable to at the moment. When we are anxious, we are more likely to interact with content about anxiety, which generates more content about anxiety, which leaves us even more convinced that we are anxious. We create the world we live in every time we think, or speak, or scroll.
But what a hopeful thing that actually is! We quickly realize that we have far more agency and power than we imagined. Paul tells us in 2 Corinthians to “take every thought captive,” and when we do, we create the opportunity to see and experience the world differently. Again, our thoughts and words have immense power to shape reality, which means that we can use the same power of words to speak new worlds and realities into existence.
This isn’t to say that we shouldn’t name hard things when they happen, but rather that we should claim our agency in choosing how we talk and think about them. When a day starts with spilled coffee or a frustrating email, it can be tempting to see every inconvenience that follows as the mark of a bad day. When we do that, we are choosing a specific story, and in essence, creating a bad day. The beautiful and exciting truth is that hopeful, positive, resilient stories hold the same power. In this season of fullness and effort, I am working hard to tell myself better stories.
Last weekend during one of my patrol shifts I was feeling particularly depleted and on edge. I had an exceptionally busy week at work, exacerbated by a jury summons and not feeling well for most of the week. Needless to say, I was not thrilled to be schlepping toboggans around the mountain on my day off. It would have been so easy to bemoan the lack of parking, and the crowds, and the sub par breakfast sandwich as marks of a day doomed to misery. Blessedly, a kind father with two toddlers bought me a waffle which kicked off a new story for my day. Later, when a couple from Ohio thanked me for working so hard to keep everyone safe, and a patient told me that my kindness made her injury less scary, I could see those as marks of an alternative day, one marked by more beauty than strain.
I don’t always or even often do this, but I’m trying to be better. I’m trying to speak and think a better world into being and finding a better life with every syllable. Taking every thought captive, embracing my agency as a creator, and speaking a better world.

Ansley Kelly (’16) makes her home in Rochester, NY, where she delights in short, sweet summers spent sailing and long winters spent skiing at her favorite mountain. Between outdoor adventures, you can find her buying books more quickly than she can read them and indulging in mid-morning naps. She works for Wegmans Food Markets where she finds purpose and joy in feeding her community and the wider world.
Ansley, you won’t remember me, but I’m a close friend of your grandparents, Ron and Rita, and my daughter, Lois and I visited your home when you were a little girl. Lois and your mom went to Fortaleza Academy together.
I have been impressed with the unique, transparent way you express your thoughts in writing, and just want to encourage you to keep on sharing these thoughts with the world around you. As you continue to speak a better world, others will be helped to do the same! May God bless you richly!
Aunt Joan!
I’m so glad you know my daughter through her writing. Lois has a similar gift of writing as Ansley. The world is better because of them. I hope this finds you and your family well.
Our history in Brazil holds sweet bonds. I continue to love you and all that we share.
Much love,
Tavia
Thank you, Tavia. Big hugs from both of us!
Only to remark on how small our world can be and all the connections. Brazil, Fortaleza, Tavia, your parents, then Joan and Lois, whom I do not know, all crossing paths at the post Calvin. I find life a fascinating venture Evan at the age of 78–so much to learn, imagine, and appreciate. Ansley, you are a thoughtful, articulate, imaginative writer!