December 30, 2016

End of the Year

2016, what a year it has been.

I'm writing this sitting in our rented apartment, overlooking the highest mountain in Ecuador, Chimborazo, crowned in ice and clouds. They call it Taita here, «the father ». As ever, if you had told me twelve months ago that I would be here now, and that my life would be what it is, I wouldn't have believed you. But year after year the faith grows stronger and this time next year we might be living in Scotland, or Japan, or Chile. I believe it all. I believe everything that's coming.

It's been a hard year, one of choices, of changes, of taking your fear in stride and doing, doing, doing. I've left my country again, several times. This year is when I lived on scottish islands and gazed at northern lights. When I crossed Europe in a few days. When I spent countless nights sleeping under the stars. When I packed the few things I own and moved to South America. This is the year he came with me, the year we found our home in each other.

This year might not have been the one I saw myself the clearest, but I was at my most real. Most raw. I have found sadness in me, and secrets, and hidden wounds that begged to be cleaned and sewn. I have grown to love this woman the most. I embrace who she is, for I have room for all of her, and she is growing. I may be tired, because years like these will cost you – but I am looking toward what's coming and I have no fear. Like my legs are strained, but my core is strong. There has been so much love this year and there can only be more next.

Thank you, 2016, for being really fucking hard and also breathtakingly beautiful.
And thank YOU, for reading and seeing – I send my love into the ether, and I hope your year has been fruitful, too.

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