so, this is the new year (on the verge)
and I feel incredibly different.
Coffee hasn’t even hit my lips yet - I’m so excited to write this new year in and get it rolling. I scrolled through festive photos from last night for about five minutes before I stopped caring about how shiny everyone’s evening was. I went to bed with my husband twenty minutes before midnight, unable to care anymore about 2022; so ready to see it leave that I couldn’t be bothered to see the final moments.
The briefest of reflections, the peon of reels, would reflect a year thwarted with uncomfortable turmoil and a desperate me grasping for many an invisible straw. A recap: I left the “dream job” in the wellness industry after my employers insensitively handled my second miscarriage, and I was able to clearly see the shambles that were left of my mental health; I hurriedly shuffled myself back in to private family care only to find that the family I’d chosen was blindly racist and would eventually break my contract for poor business practices and insufficient funds; I lost my journal on the train; our beloved dog of twelve years died. This is just a summary, I know I’m leaving a few things out. It was an incredible year of loss, and I can hardly wrap my mind around the brevity with which such heavy things happen.
This year was peppered with moments of pure joy, too: becoming part of DFD’s preventative wellness team; strolling the streets of NYC alone; healing friendships in the early spring; the lake with my family in June, Africa in July, picking the perfect Mango pup in September - there was big, wild beauty thrown in amongst grief I couldn’t unwind myself from. And joy within those kinds of life-changing moments is EVERYTHING. It’s the stuff you can cling to when you’re really not sure if you can stay on the ride anymore, even though you just got to the top and your heart says surely the best part is next but the head is too jaded and just not sure.
But the best part IS next.
I awoke this morning with a sense of calm and ease I have not felt in several years. And a sense of satisfaction that has me swaying as I sweep and do my morning chores. I feel, on the brink of thirty-five earth years and a brand new career, that I am on the cusp of all the good stuff. Whatever it is I’ve been waiting for is TOTALLY FUCKING OUT THERE and all I have to do is go get it. I journaled and I tidied and I took the time to handwrite the goals for the next 3 6 5 and saw a glimpse of the person I promised myself I would be nearly ten years ago.
I knew around the fall of 2013 that my life had to change in order to get where I want and really move forward. While I have definitely made huge leaps and strides to get where I’m going, I sure did take my time. I’ve shared with many friends an anecdote I read in some magazine once, a quote from Sara Paulson: “Don’t succeed too early,” to paraphrase. I think my head took that and ran with it, afraid of all the dreams my heart holds. They feel too big sometimes. Past versions of myself try to argue against what perception is and what reality can be. And now, I”m on the verge. This year is all about persistently and consistently using every tool I have meticulously collected. I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE WHAT I’LL BUILD!
[Insert evil laugh]
Off to geaux make 2023 not only say my name but remember it.