The pressure is on. I’ve created this page and told the
people who hold me accountable that I am going to write this blog, so now I
have to actually write it. And stick with it. And make it worth reading. Oh hell.
I intended to begin with some sort of invigorating take on
what the new year will hold, but I feel like it’s premature to delve into
what’s coming up without offering up something about what’s been left behind.
We need to know where we’re jumping off from, right? In the interest of lengthiness, here is a
synopsis of my year: I began a new job and transitioned into a new career path.
I broke up, broke down, picked myself back up and found myself happier than I’ve
been in years. I discovered that losing my self is a far greater tragedy than
losing someone else. I learned that the success of a relationship should not be
measured by its trajectory, but by the individual evolution of its
participants. I experienced the euphoria of joining thousands of other heartbeats
at my favorite band’s concert. I went on a first date that will make me rethink all others. I
decided to stop waiting for the perfect time or the perfect partner to follow
my dreams and to just do what I have always wanted to do. That last item is
key: a lot less waiting, or thinking, or planning – and a lot more doing.
So this is where I start my year, a fledgling version of the
sturdy woman I have been striving to become. I am determined to hold steadfast
to the notion of doing and living. That’s my verb for the coming year: do. And to do with passion, zeal, courage and joy. I don’t have much of a plan
beyond that – read, drink wine, explore, learn Italian, spend time with loved
ones – but I don’t need a plan. All I need is me.
