Another year gone by. How to express all a year can hold?
Looking back at my journal, I see that in the first day of this year I had finished a book already, gone to work, logged 16,000 steps, started a crochet project, made plans to meet friends next week, done laundry, and got some writing in. It's nice to remember that some of my days looked like that. I know for a fact that a lot of them did not.
This January was dark with depression, and many months of this year were plagued with weariness and lack of motivation. But when I look back, as always, I can smile at how far I've come. The tools I've added to my belt, and new skills in using them.
I have a therapist now. I've had good experiences with doctors and acupuncturists. I'm taking supplements that changed my life. I joined a gym, and a choir. And sometimes I meditate. These did not fix me, but they are some of my new tools.
I became a manager at my job. Survived an operational audit, and franchisee conference. Interviewed and hired and fired and trained and coached and befriended and learned from and have been greatly blessed by a lot of folks.
I visited Europe. Walked the streets of London and Paris, strolled by the Thames and the Seine. Explored Churchill's war-rooms, and marveled at the Normandy beaches. I ate superb fish'n'chips in London, and could have cried over the simple beauty of French wine and bread and cheese.
My brothers married absolute gems this year. And both my new sisters work with me now, which thrills me every time I see their faces. How rare and many-splendored is this blessing, I ask you?
I moved out of my tiny apartment, spent some weeks in the basement of kind friends, and then moved into an old Victorian mansion of a house, that's run as an Airbnb. Do you realize that when I was a kid, what I wanted to do when I grew up was either run a bed-and-breakfast or a coffeeshop? I seem to be living the dream.
Funny how sometimes life is a dark and exhausting, claustrophobic tunnel, sometimes it's a riotous thunderstorm, brilliant and beautiful and dangerous, and sometimes it's a quiet fireside with a book and a cup of tea. Other times you experience all three, along with seven others, in one day... and then someone asks you why you look a bit dazed.
Try to be kind, when people ask stupid questions.
And try to be gentle, when you're the asker.
I can tell you, last winter one of my least favorite things, something I actively dreaded, was people asking me how I was. Because I didn't have a satisfactory answer, for them or myself. No one, when they ask that question, is expecting you to say... I just wish I could laugh more than I cry.
And I was right there, and worse.
But Jesus stayed with me, even when I was so numb that I felt as if I were going blind and deaf. He stayed and sustained me. When all I could do was repeat his Name. He was Faithful. And as I kept putting one foot in front of the other, in faith, one gentle moment at a time... I made it out of the shadows.
I am in the light once more.
And how to express that? The complex and difficult and untidy but glorious thing that is life. When color and shape come back to life, when blessing and gift and friendship startle you awake. When despite the desperate loneliness you've felt, you find yourself, in fact, surrounded. And it makes you want to be the surrounding for everyone else.
It doesn't mean you're never lonely, but you know you belong. It doesn't mean you don't get sad, but you know you'll laugh again tomorrow. It doesn't mean that the hurt is all gone, but you don't mistake it for lack of abundance. It doesn't mean we're not hiking a stiff mountain slope next year, but this time, we were able to pack a mean rucksack.
But what's more... I'm getting my joy back; some of that stability and tranquility that's been so elusive for so long.
I have new sisters, new responsibilities in my job. I have new ideas for visiting Scotland, and Quebec. I have closer friends, and old-new friends, and new-old friends.
I read 52 books this year!
That's always roughly what I'm shooting for each year. For a Reader, this is doable. But with lives full of people, jobs, and (help me now) the internet, it is something else to actually get there.
I only read 13 of them with my eyes. The other 39 were audiobooks (Audible, Overdrive, and Chirp. Use your libraries to capacity, my friends!). 31 of them were new books, 21 were rereads. Interested in which books I reread most years? Want a recommendation for next year? Have a recommendation for me? Comment below!
I've added Latvian Stew to my signature repertoire in the kitchen. I love adding a dish that has special significance, and or cultural history. Latvian Stew I first came across in a beloved work of fiction (A Gentleman in Moscow) and I knew I wanted to try it. When I found the recipe it was an unusual combination, but I knew at once it would be wonderful. It was amazing. Rich and sweet, and mouthwatering and savory.
Last year I added Syrian Mujadara to my everyday repertoire. And that was courtesy of Preemptive Love's Eat like Syria night, that I joined in my own home.
It's inspiring me to do this every year: find a dish, from another country perhaps, that has significance for me---a built in conversational starter---and add it to my repertoire. Looks like I need to pull out my Together cookbook, and get inspired for 2020!
I also settled into a pretty signature outfit this year. Cashmere is one of my favorite things, and when I find them at the thriftstore, I take them home with great excitement (or my friends do it for me!). And I've discovered high-rise skinny jeans and they work real well together. So... I'm usually wearing a combination of those. Unless I'm at work, where there's no way I'll bring my cashmere. In that case I'm probably wearing a casual quarter-zip sweater or fairisle if I can find it. Winter is a good time for sweaters and socks. And if you live in Minnesota, you've got to embrace the wool and fairisle and layering life.
I've gotten even more protective of my sleep, and stopped feeling guilty about it. Largely because of this fascinating podcast. It's eight hours or bust! I think if I were to give anyone else a resolution for their year it would be to work on getting good sleep. It can save your health, rebuild your brain, and change your life.
And as trivial as it sounds, I am thrilled to have settled on a facial cleansing routine that I will actually do. Micellar water for the win.
Maybe next year I'll tackle natural teeth whitening??
I found that the L'ange titanium curling wand actually curls my hair. And well. And easily. It's pretty much changed my life. With how much I was effusing over it in the first week, I really should have been one of their promotors.
I also should be sponsored by Chipotle, the great fueler of all my food needs when not at home...
I seriously eat there so often. I am still thrilled that they got a rewards app!
I'm lacing up my boots for the year ahead, and remembering that holidays and endings and beginnings can be charged and fraught. Sadness is okay, even at Christmas; the waves can crash during festivities, or after... Step back, let it come, let it pass. Deep breath. We're celebrating God With Us, Emmanuel. Jesus came for our brokenness. To wrap his holy self around our wounds and frailty, and make us ready for himself, for the year ahead, for giving and receiving blessing, and for an eternity in the Light of the Lamb.
So wrap our injured flesh around You
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy
Perfect Son of God
Welcome to our World
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| last late dinner in Montmartre |
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| Taken in the Musee de Montmartre, Paris, in June. |
