As we close out 2022, a memory keeps returning to me that I only now understand. I recall graduating college many decades ago and not sure where to start my next phase of life. My boxes were packed and I had two addresses to choose from—one in Chicago and the other in Boston. All I lacked was a job and a plan.

On the very morning that I had to slap on a label, I chose Boston. It was a simple instinct devoid of data. I didn’t worry about what I would be doing. I assumed I would figure it out. My exceptional parents hid their anxiety and only showed support—a feat I particularly appreciated when I became a parent many years later.

My decision turned out well. I learned I could take some risks and bet on myself. It was the beginning of my grooving bold behavior. Years later, before it was in fashion, I would choose to be my own boss—a decision that, 23 years into it, I am still thankful for. The most frightening risk I took was learning the game of tennis in my late thirties and then joining a women’s tennis team. Now I was exposed to the makeup and skills of very talented players while I worked hard to prove I belonged. I also took up writing and believed I had something to say. Eventually, a book series was born. Bold was me.

Fast forward to 2020 when the world was rocked by COVID. Suddenly, we were trapped in our homes while our kids did our shopping. We did puzzles, watched Netflix, and Zoomed with family and friends. We had Lysol wipes nearby for the unusual moment someone touched something we might subsequently touch. To say we became unmoored is an understatement.

Three years into our new reality, I believe we will never be the same. This is not all bad. We appreciate simpler pleasures and are clearer about how we wish to spend our time. We have introduced more dogs into our lives because many now realize what I have known for years: Dog is god spelled backward.

But there is the other side. We can be meaner and more accepting of our self-centered streak. Many are experiencing a malaise that doesn’t have a name but whose roots run deep. We question our purpose and our will to work.

It is in this context that I understand my memory of being 22 and moving to a new city, jobless and aimless. Sometimes our bold streak can need reawakening. The legacy of COVID shouldn’t be to forever aim for safety at the expense of experiencing life.

My husband and I understood this before we could put words to it when we chose to return to Boston Symphony performances one year into COVID. There we were, masked and vaccinated, and surrounded by students from the nearby Berklee school of music who were probably gifted tickets to fill some seats. There were almost no gray-haired elders near us. At the first concert, we gave many standing ovations, not only because the orchestra was superb but because we were starting to reclaim our lives.

Just as I am processing a subliminal message about needing to stay bold, out comes the Oxford Dictionary’s word of the year for 2022: “Goblin Mode.” I was unfamiliar with the term, which means “unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations.”  Goblin Mode garnered 93 percent of the 300,000 votes cast because it reflects our current mood.

While my recollection of life at 22 and Oxford’s word of the year was coincidental in timing, it might also be divine providence that provides meaning as I approach 2023. For me, it is time to turn the page and re-up living boldly. I know this won’t be easy. As Simon and Garfunkel’s song goes, we have traversed a “Bridge over Troubled Water,” and those memories are deep too. But I will take my inspiration from the song’s concluding words:

“Sail on by. Your time has come to shine.”

This message to myself couldn’t come at a better time as I prepare to release a new fictional series in 2023 about a 14-year-old boy building his social muscles. We don’t need Sherlock to see some obvious parallels.

Bold is where it’s at. Goodbye, Goblin Mode. Our time has come to shine.