I look back at last 12 months, and I shake my head. It’s been exhausting. The year moved strangely, at speeds where I could barely keep up and times so slow that I begged for the day to end, to let me sleep and dissolve some of the stress away. 2015 was powerful for me, unlike some other years where I can barely remember much, this one will stand looming over my grave.
I’ve had moments that have changed my life, changed who I thought I was, and who I will be in the future this year. I am thankful for this and also so fiercely angry that I can barely breath without screaming.
I’ve done things I’ve always wanted. And done things I swore I’d never do.
I’ve gone places I only dreamed of seeing. Been in a place I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
I’ve loved passionately. Hated with such gravity that I was almost crushed by it.
I found strength in my friends. And watched my best friend suffer and couldn’t do anything about it.
I embraced new daughters into our family. And sighed as not all of them lasted through the year.
I traveled around the world and found that it wasn’t much different from my small town.
I held new babies and said goodbye elderly friends.
I got involved in social experiments. I stopped participating in social gossip.
I drank more tea and sipped less wine.
I’ve been wildly free. And felt so trapped that I wanted to claw my way out of the traps I set for myself.
I forgave my body for many things. But held grudges against it for others.
I planted a lovely garden. And watched my house be torn up and left with holes.
I chased rainbows. And cried when it rained too much.
I stood in wide amazement as my lifetime heroes took stage. And I pulled the covers over my head as I said good-bye to heroes that never knew how much I cared.
I went on adventures with my best friends. And found simple times quiet on couches just as satisfying.
I dipped my toes into the sea, climbed the edges of cliffs, and breathed in the dryness of the desert air.
I got rid of clutter only to add more.
I made new friends. And lost a few more.
I traveled on my own. I stayed home when everyone else left.
I discovered I am a much better Auntie than I thought I would be.
I went to mellow concerts in the park. And plugged my ears in punk bars in the city.
I discovered China town has amazing pizza. Yet food in Germany is really not my thing.
I took a social media break to clear my head. Then I went back with a new mission to find myself.
I saw a pony in a bar. Yeah, that really happened. It was cool… no yang to that. Just cool.
My Dad surprised me with a visit and shocked me with his death. I took it harder than I expected and I still don’t understand why.
My Mother faked dying and shocked me with how low she’d go. I took that pretty hard and I am struggling to understand why.
My Brother became less of a child and more of my friend. I don’t know when that happened, but I’m glad.
My children all had moments where they called out for me in tears and broke my heart, and hugged me so tight that they fixed it.
My husband was both my rock and my punching bag, my friend and my foe. And we somehow made it another year.
I found my friends are more like family and some family like distant friends.
I spent time with lifetime friends and longed to see friends of a lifetime.
I’ve had the best health and the worst, confusing me if I am fading or healing.
I lost 15 pounds but I still fight with my body.
I embraced being 40 something only to face that age doesn’t really matter, anyone can die.
I’ve had work success and moments that I thought I need a big change.
I’ve accepted challenges and let myself down on others.
I’ve been brave enough to stand up for injustice and terrified to address my own flaws.
I have been so happy I cried tears. So depressed I wondered if I could make it another day.
I know where I want to be. But I don’t know how I got here sometimes.
I am very proud of the woman I’ve become, but saddened at parts of that journey.
There are people I wish I could wrap my arms around and hold on tightly to, and others that make me ill.
I’ve reached out and taken the risks for acceptance and been rejected and both are okay with me.
I am excited for the new year and scared that I have been so beaten down by the last 12 months that I can’t be strong enough for more.
I want to find my wings and fly, yet I am fearful of where I might go.
I know I can be more, but I lie to myself and say I can’t.
Life is full of balancing scales. A life full of brave moments and moments passed up because of fear. 2015 wasn’t my year, and I am hoping that it will balance out and I will find 2016 is a year full of possibilities and fewer tears.
Live Life Creatively
~ Crysta ~