A Year in Review…kinda

I’ve tried to assign words like “good” or “bad” or “hard” to the whole of the past year, but everything feels insufficient. There is no one word to describe the entire year, because while there were truly horrible moments, there were moments of kindness, goodness, love, care, and happiness that bring the whole year into balance.

My story of the past year is not yet ready to be told, at least not fully. Partly because it feels too personal but also because I want to keep the really, really good moments all to myself. The friendships that have been forged in the crucible of struggle or hard conversations or the renewed sense of purpose and calling I feel again feel like gifts to cherish all on my own.

And yet…

This year was a hard road to walk. There were (many) days I could’ve left everything and everyone and gone to live in a yurt, eating whatever the land provided. There are a few kinks in that plan, though. I don’t own a yurt. Yurts don’t have bathrooms in them. And I absolutely could not eat what the land provided. For those reasons alone walking the hard road was the only viable option…much to my chagrin and dismay.
The road was narrow and dark and lonely and there were times where the fastest I could go was a crawl. The road seemed to stretch, endlessly, in front of me, punctuated with hidden tripping hazards and pockets of sludge waiting to swallow me whole.

Occasionally, through the darkness, flecks of light would flash, illuminating the road just enough to cast light on the faces of people walking this road alongside me. It was far too much for anyone else to walk, too, so I kept walking alone, picking up stones along the way. The stones were heavy and cumbersome, but I kept walking and carrying them alone.

I’ve spent the better part of the past six months feeling like I’ve been turned inside out, every emotion felt raw and brand new. I tried to carry it all for myself, bristling at anyone’s attempt to help, until I simply could not hold anymore. Everything came crashing down and the darkness that pressed in around me gave way to the light. To my great surprise, the road that felt so lonely was crowded with people helping me pick up the pieces of the stones I had carried. They carried them without a hint of obligation, but with joy and love. That which was far too burdensome for me to carry alone suddenly became light when shared with others.

The road is no longer shrouded in darkness. It is no longer narrow. It is wide and welcoming. It is still punctuated with hazards and potholes, but without the darkness concealing them, they seem less dangerous.

…It’s been a year.
I don’t believe there is anything magical or special about January 1. Tomorrow I will wake up and I will still be on the same road I am on today with the same people who are walking beside me now. The best gift I have gotten this year was the unconditional love from people who are not obligated to love me. The ones who kept walking the road alongside me, waiting for me to invite them to share the load I carried.