Truth be told, I had a completely different idea of what this May post would be about. Originally I wrote out 25 things I learned over the year, commemorating the end of being 25. However, I was having technological issues so I couldn’t access my website and I was very uninspired by the writing I had done (no offense to myself). Talk about a creative rejection from the universe. Nothing says, “Uh, TRY AGAIN,” like the entire website shutting down on you! Clearly, I had some deeper thinking to do. Thank you, universe, for calling me out!
Another year around the sun.
Now I’m 26.
Pardon me if I sound way too sentimental saying this, but… I find as I climb deeper into my 20s, each birthday comes with a sense of nostalgia—a bittersweetness. I ask myself: Was this year what I hoped it’d be? Am I who I thought I’d be at this age? Who do I want to be? Where do I want to go?
Similar to New Years or graduations or anything that sets a season of life apart, I find birthdays to be a new beginning. There’s the sweetness of reconnecting with my heart’s yearnings once again. My spirit is filled with hope for another year to explore, learn, and live. In these moments, I remember the magic of being truly alive.
Last year on my birthday I was in a very different place in life. I was thriving in my job, meeting new people, feeling engaged and enriched in my professional and in my personal life. Life felt new and exciting. But the latter part of the year was unexpectedly difficult. Although it’s hard in the moment, I’ve learned to honor the technicolor of a full life, which includes knowing intimately life’s inevitable disappointments, struggles, and frustrations—the bitter part.
Fast forward. I recently left a job I used to love that gradually had become a place I no longer felt I belonged. It was an achey process, and one I tried to fix and control for awhile. But ultimately, it was taking me further away from who I want to be and where I want to go—and I knew it. I felt distant from the part of me that knows I can do so much more. In fact, that little voice inside? She kept whispering, You’re made for so much more.
In this particular season of stress and disappointment, I found myself untouched by life’s wonder, beauty and magic. The birds still sung outside my window when I awoke each morning, but my heart wasn’t washed over with a sense of joy and awe like it used to be. I felt tremendously disenchanted by it. Unphased. I noticed the birdsong and tried to embrace its sweetness, but I couldn’t.
In those moments of barely even feeling like a shell of a human, I wondered: Where does the magic go? It’s right in front of me, but feels out of reach.
Perhaps the magic doesn’t “go” anywhere in the literal sense. Perhaps something in me left. I experienced burnout in a way I’d never experienced before. I dealt with a break up, a job change and an injury that lasted the entire year. I let go of familiarity and control and certainty.
But with any “letting go” there’s an equal opportunity to “let in.” Perhaps I let life’s inherent goodness—the sweetness— hide behind the shadows of life. And it’s time to find how to let it back in. I don’t know what this year has in store for me and I’m totally ok with that. What I do know is I’m going to prioritize the beginnings of this new chapter exploring and discovering what I choose to “let in.”
I have some exciting changes coming my way and I’m truly looking forward to it. I’ll continue to embrace the excitement, hope, even the fear. The Bitter and the Sweet. And I’ll wash my hands clean of the past. Let the spring rain wash away all of the dust…to allow the flowers to blossom. It’s a new year; new age; new chapter. I’m already sensing a flicker of magic re-awakening inside me as I write this. And that’s all I need. Just a flicker.
”How beautifully you are learning the art of surrender, the courage to let go, in the wild of your unknowns.” - Morgan Harper Nichols
P.S. The photo was taken above while out on a walk with a friend.