Nostalgia

The end of the year is unfailingly an unoriginal period of time to reflect on the year that was. As much as I try to come up with a succinct piece about this time in my life, I realize that far too much has happened to do so. In fact, more than any other year, I’ve gone back and forth on the road of progress, opened old memories, and of course, made completely fresh ones. I have deforested entire ideologies and sowed the seeds of newer virtues that I’ve come to value as I grow older. In many ways, I have also become astonishingly pragmatic regarding my incumbent need to thrive monetarily, mentally and artistically. I have started to learn and unlearn with books, people, podcasts and everything else that comprises the fourth estate.

This year, I ran faster but less further. I knocked down those twice my size. I embraced with all honesty my science-fascinated, heart-eyed little nerd in me. I wore more lipstick and took happier selfies. I captured more memories in my notebook rather than my lens. I found more art that was diverse, inclusive, inspiring and relatable. I found memes — some confusing, some on point and some that sparked conversations with people lurking in the background of my social media life. I found that it is harder to love than to be loved. I found more songs based on music and less on lyrics. I learned to let go, to hold on and to stand between the two gates with trust.

I read books, found my voice, and then literally lost it. I traveled — physically, mentally and deep within. I fell apart, puzzled myself back together. Watched heroes die, friends rise from the ashes and I’m closer to becoming who I want to be than I ever was. I was inspired, praised and succeeded. I also failed, hurt and lost control. I lost control and learned that was okay. I laughed, cried more but still laughed and made some others laugh. I knocked on old doors and was welcomed with love. Others knocked mine and I pulled them in for hugs.

I visited cities — old homes — that I once knew but could not recognize. I visited old relationships — like a familiar city in a different season — but found that they were still exactly the same. Places moved on, people stayed. The ones I love distantly got married. The ones I love dearly redeemed their heart, their love and themselves. I saw myself as an adult in a parent’s eye. I was asked counsel by someone who had admonished me throughout my childhood. I consoled a bereaved mother and comforted a recently cancer-free patient. I walked in the light, sat in the shadows and watched the two dance during dusk and dawn. I wrote. I write. I will keep writing. I grow, you grow, and after all, all is well that ends well.

I was both equally significant and insignificant this year and I now realize that that is perhaps the best way to be.

Goodbye now, 2018. It’s time to let you go too.