Been a while, hasn’t it? Still recognize me? Even with another year added to my lifeline (is that a wrinkle)? All joke’s aside, I know I’m late to the party, even though the party is my own. But you know what
they I always say:
“She’s always late, but worth the wait.” (Actually thinking of making this my tagline, any thoughts?)
So yeah, probably the only consistency about being me, is my inconsistency. My age may go up, but at least there’s one thing that will always remain the same. However the lack of writing-consistency here, I always experience a deep craving to write down my thoughts when a new life year enters the stage. I’m guessing it’s a return to a deeper need for my creative soul to spill its contents onto paper, and to make room for new thoughts, for new moments to move in.
Spring fall cleaning just took on a whole new meaning!
Reflecting back onto moments long gone hasn’t always been my favorite activity, but I’ve grown more comfortable with it each year. It brings me new insights and clarity into the person I’m growing into. And honestly, I don’t know where I’d be without this urge to create. Everything evolves. Friends come and jobs go. My mood and weight fluctuates, as does my desire to work out, consistently. Yet, writing made a home within me from the moment 7y-old me learned how to pick up a pen.
Something is changing though; in writing, in making images, in creating. And it might be the seasons, and it might be me. New ideas and new, exciting projects will be born over the course of the next 12 months. Dare I even say this will be the biggest year for me yet —watch this creative space!
If 22 was the year of realizing things, and 23 was the year of finding balance in my realizations, then 24 will be the year where I rise above and use my findings to create a more balanced, fulfilled life.
I’m not sure why, but seeing the number 25 as the next one up on my (hopefully) long list of birthdays, makes me weirdly uncomfortable. As if this new milestone ahead will determine the value I put on myself.
Yet I’ve dedicated myself, with all my being, to get rid of putting pressure on achieving anything on a set timeline, or reaching milestones as a life goal. I’ve discovered —in my long 24 years gathering my fair share of mistakes while walking the earth—that making life into a race of “more, better, faster” isn’t the highway to a successful, happy existence. Rather, I’ve grown to believe in a little miracle called ‘balance’. I’ve learned to rest my body when it needs it most, I’ve learned to pause my mind when it races most.
Happiness lies not in the milestones achieved, rather in the journey towards them, however long that journey might take.
Happiness lies in the hope, in the discovery of oneself. It’s not about achieving things, it’s about achieving myself. Remember: there are no rules to this life-thing, only the ones we voluntarily choose ourselves.
Choose discomfort, if it means running closer to finding your true self. Choose uncertainty, if it means finding accidental magic on your path. Choose freedom, if it means making a home out of yourself, instead of places and people. Choose curiosity, if it means getting to know your beauty, your worth, but also your uncomfortable, raw spots. Choose softness, if it means not letting the pain of the world and others harden you into bitterness. Choose kindness, always, for yourself and for others. Choose losing yourself a little in order to grow, for being lost is both the most terrifying and beautiful place to be in.
But above all: choose you —because you’re always, definitely, undoubtedly worth the wait.
Happy ‘almost-twenty-fifth’ 24th birthday to me.