As I write this, I’m miles away from the place I will be spending the majority of 2016.
The place I call home (Vancouver, BC) is a world away — wet, white, wonderful — and I am, instead, nestled somewhere in an Arizona valley, surrounded by Palm Trees and a cold winter breeze (but a hot sun). It is dusty, it is dry and it is barren . . . but it is thriving.
I have reflected plenty on 2015 over the past few days of holiday and have found myself surprised to feel at ease with the amount I have not accomplished, the number of things I have failed to cross off my to-do list. On paper, I didn’t have a great year.
The things I planned to do, that is, didn’t get all that done.
With that said, I blew my own mind with the number of things that happened which were not a part of my “list”.
I saw places I had never seen before, witnessed more than one dear friend promise themselves to another, ate my weight in mussels and french fries in the south of France, watched my brother hit rock bottom and held his hand through his recovery, had a panic attack in the middle of the Mojave Desert, landed a job that would shake everything upside down, change everything inside out and fix things I never even knew weren’t working properly. I sang Graceland more than once at the top of my lungs, had over 150 bubble baths in a bubble gum colored tub, drank real champagne when I couldn’t afford it and cheap white wine when I could, I got yelled at by Gabby Bernstein and re-discovered a God whom I thought was taking a hiatus. I cried into the ocean, sliced my fingers open while cutting juicy tomatoes, walked my sweetheart through grief he had never experienced before and turned down opportunities that were good for me for the sake of others. I did Kundalini yoga and swam in the Mediterranean. I gained ten pounds and lost five. I laughed. I lost. And I loved so freaking hard.
I got married, for fuck sakes — that came out of left field.
2015 was a personal year for me — a BIG year for me — but it didn’t follow my plan.
Instead, it moved as it needed to move, flowed as it needed to flow and I followed along behind it, sometimes kicking and screaming, sometimes kicking up dust, and sometimes with my hands out the window and my soul howling at the moon.
This year hurt.
It came at me unexpected and beautiful.
It was radiant.
It was joy-filled.
It exceeded my expectations & it put my “plan” to shame.
This year showed me there is so much more out there than what I can wish for.
This year was good.
And so, I trust. I leave the pages of 2016 blank and leave the Universe room to work its magic, less constrained than it ever has been before.
I trust that what needs to happen will happen and that just like this desert, I will thrive in whatever conditions are put in front of me.
I have proven to be Resilient.
I have proven to be Strong. Adaptable. Compassionate. Faithful. Grateful. And through it all, Thirsty.
So I do not need to change, come the stroke of midnight. I need to continue.
I wish for you this New Year’s Eve to go easy on yourself — to make exciting goals and adventurous proclamations whilst never forgetting that you, just as you are, are exactly what you need to be in order to live the life of your wildest dreams.