Last year at this time I was so relieved that the past year was over and there was something of a new beginning that came with the clock striking midnight. Even though I knew logically that nothing really changed with the moving of the clock, I still felt like I was running away from a bad date and I just wanted the year to be over.
This year feels so different. I didn’t really want to let go of 2021. It has been one of the best years of my life–a year of adventure, joy, curiosity, connection, renewal, and healing.
What I have learned in having two drastically different years back-to-back is that it’s true what they say–there are seasons of life. If you are in a difficult season right now, my heart is with you. I am so sorry for all that you have lost, for the things that you are grieving, for everything that hurts. It is impossible to know how long the dark times will last, but I do have faith that they don’t last forever for any of us.
At the end of last year, I was deep in grief. I had lost my father, I was still recovering from cancer surgeries and other treatments, and I was trying to process that some of my life’s big dreams had died and needed to be released. Even though I wanted to pack up my grief and leave it in our storage unit with everything else, I quickly learned that it doesn’t work that way. I definitely carried the things I was grieving with me to France–little stowaways who popped up now and again in between castles and cafés.
Just like spring doesn’t arrive in full bloom in one day after a harsh winter, hard things don’t leave us all at once. But slowly, the snow melted away, the mud cleared, the light lingered longer, and things started to bud and to bloom again. While this season lasts, I plan to enjoy the warmth of the sun on my face.