end of year musings
While I’m still switching to Sundays for this newsletter, I figured for the last one of the year I’d go back to a Thursday letter. No pictures. Just words. A jumble of thoughts.
While it’s been an extremely lonely and tough year—across so many facets—I’ve been looking and focusing on the small positives and impactful moments. There’s been a dive into further understanding myself and my values and who and what I cherish. Finding value in feeling the reciprocity in so many relationships in my life has made the tough moments durable.
It has been a year of duality. Seeing the flip side to everything. Food has been nourishing but also stressful. Access to food has been a huge privilege that I didn’t fully comprehend how much it affects those in my city. Work, and being able to have a job but also seeing friends with precarious work, and my members of my family lose income and also be deemed essential. The work-life balance that becomes living at my office with no clear boundaries established both physically and mentally. Deepening ties to some people, and letting others slowly unravel. Asking for what I need, and then simultaneously stewing when my mind can’t be read.
But, really, it’s been a year of growth and understanding the resilience of me. How to juggle the hard times, and finding small moments of levity to ease the pain. Figuring out that hey, people think I’m so extroverted but I am actually so okay on my own. That while I prefer the company of friends, it has to be meaningful and have some depth. That I truly do value friendships and connection. It’s okay to have shallowness in relationships, but to not get lost or distracted by what that means—it can be a form of connecting, but it doesn’t have to fulfill you. Being your authentic self, and letting others accept it—if they don’t, it’s okay. What kind of person do you want to be? What are you hiding and not saying? Why? Why not?
What does this ending of 2020 mean? Can’t we also hope for something new tomorrow? Isn’t hope great? Even throughout this year, there were so many moments of delight—can’t there be hope for more? A park picnic. Meeting a neighbour in a lonely tower of anonymity and becoming fast and good friends. Baking bread. Sharing bread. Catching the sunrise. Writing letters. Sending cards late. Sharing books. Talking about books. Meeting new friends online. Connecting with old friends online. Appreciating the silence. Finding new tunes. Spending all day in my bed. Staying up til 5am reading. Watching TV for pure delight. Drinking water. That flower on the sidewalk. Snow on Christmas. Logging so many minutes of phone calls with family. With friends. Indulging in the things I’ve wanted. Lighting candles. But really striking matches. Walking along the waterfront. The smell of coffee. The sound of milk steaming. The smell of instant ramen. Opening the dishwasher and fogging my glasses.
happy thursday the 31st of december of the year 2020, y’all. may we welcome 2021 with an abundance of delight, an cautious hope.