In Retrospect

This past year has been very difficult, intense, draining and exhilarating all at once. It started with gruesome, mind-numbing discoveries which thrust me to question every aspect of my life so far. Every choice I ever made, every thoughts, preferences, all the challenges and difficulties I have had to face over and over, my reactions to people, to events, and ultimately the vision I had of myself, of my worth, strengths, capacities, dreams, desires and most importantly, of the space I was allowing myself to occupy in this world.

It took a full year of painful reflection to realize that I was a person worth knowing, that I could have dreams of my own, that I was entitled to live and blossom and open up to people, to circumstances and that sometimes I may be hurt, but most of all, I’ll be fine.

With questioning comes frustration, rage, anguish, and eventually retaliation but also, understanding, acceptance and determination, if only to move on, to leave it all behind, even though it will forever linger somewhere in your mind.

This year also witnessed the agony and death of a long friendship, a friendship which had transformed itself over the years, into a ruthless path of hot coals. Still, a friendship which I will always cherish for what it once was.

In the midst of the ebb and flow, in the most unexpected of settings, I found myself sharing breakfast with an unusual personage who quickly became a friend. Not yet one who can pretend to years of acquaintance but certainly to reflection, respect and intelligence.

Unbeknown to him, he provided me with the key to let all my torments go: a blog, this blog. A space where I could share my story with others who perhaps face the same challenges, where I could share my mind about the most trivial of subjects, if I so chose. But also a space where I can slowly open up, expose myself to the world, share my dreams, my increasing joys, learn to brave up, a place where I can dare to dare.

The same friend posted on his blog recently predictions for the New Year by Tom Asacker. Two of them really made me think:

The first one said that many things will change in the next year, but many people will not. That most of us will be doing, thinking and feeling more or less the same things this time next year as we are now. That if you don’t want that sameness, you should grab yourself by the collar and yank yourself off of that comfortable, well-worn path and onto the one less traveled by you. To let go of your past and grab onto your future. Because while you’re waiting for that grand insight to point you in the right direction, the beauty of life is flying right on by.

The second said that most people will sit quietly in their seats and watch life unfold around them. That the best way to know what kind of life you want is to put yourself in charge of creating it. To let the pull of what excites you and what you care most deeply about be your guide.

At first I was devastated in some ways, thinking back about the last year. Then I started putting things into perspective. Sometimes action is more than just physical. And I had plenty of it. My world shifted several times during the year. It was not comfortable, it was not easy, but it was enlightening and it made space for new beginnings, just like the ending of that friendship had done. Removing some of the dusty old – things - we carry makes space for brand new ones, which correspond more to who we have become. I could have done more, I am sure, but I did the very best I could. And that I am proud of.

What will the New Year bring? I don’t know. What I know for sure though, is that at midnight on the 31st, I will be sitting at my computer writing the very first words of my novel. So let’s wait until this time next year to see what really happened. Some of us – me – might be tormenting publishing companies, others might have succeeded in losing some weight or would have joined shameful organizations, and others might be sitting in front of the TV, watching their own show being played.

Whatever happens, keep in mind that the longest journey begins with the first step.