After spending the last few hours of the decade chanting ancient mantras in a candle lit room packed full of devotees, seekers, and probably a few folks wondering how they ended up thrown into the mix, I came home, curled up in my hammock, and watched fireworks explode across the cloud covered skies of Koh Phangan.
Welcome 2020.
My first day of the year was full of beach, sunshine, and a new Murakami book, then meeting up with friends for yoga class, sauna detox, and the most delicious dinner I've had on the island yet. And to end the night, I had an almond latte which sent me reeling. I was up until almost 3am. Why do I do these things to myself?
I ended up logging onto an old online journal I kept the entire 12 years I lived in Santa Cruz. Twelve years worth of memories. Twelve years of a life that feels like it was lived by someone else...or several different someones. Some entries made me tear up, some made me laugh out loud, some I gasped in shock because I couldn't believe such insanity.
And if you count all the paper journals that came prior to Santa Cruz, that's a lot of writing. I had some sort of a mad drive to document that I was alive and living life as best I could. And in a way, I suppose I still do. A life not so much filled by progress in the conventional sense, but by experiences and stories. Those suspended moments in time that I write about for the sheer joy of it.
The next morning I awoke to the sweetest email from an old friend I hadn't heard from in quite some time--thanking me for my amazing blog posts and inspiration, for somehow having a thought or answer to things he'd been pondering. We never really know the impact we have on other people, for better or worse.
An incredibly sweet start to a new year, caffeinated into the early hours and all.
My first day of the year was full of beach, sunshine, and a new Murakami book, then meeting up with friends for yoga class, sauna detox, and the most delicious dinner I've had on the island yet. And to end the night, I had an almond latte which sent me reeling. I was up until almost 3am. Why do I do these things to myself?
I ended up logging onto an old online journal I kept the entire 12 years I lived in Santa Cruz. Twelve years worth of memories. Twelve years of a life that feels like it was lived by someone else...or several different someones. Some entries made me tear up, some made me laugh out loud, some I gasped in shock because I couldn't believe such insanity.
And if you count all the paper journals that came prior to Santa Cruz, that's a lot of writing. I had some sort of a mad drive to document that I was alive and living life as best I could. And in a way, I suppose I still do. A life not so much filled by progress in the conventional sense, but by experiences and stories. Those suspended moments in time that I write about for the sheer joy of it.
The next morning I awoke to the sweetest email from an old friend I hadn't heard from in quite some time--thanking me for my amazing blog posts and inspiration, for somehow having a thought or answer to things he'd been pondering. We never really know the impact we have on other people, for better or worse.
An incredibly sweet start to a new year, caffeinated into the early hours and all.
Wherever my curiosities and questions lead me this year, I hope they continue guiding me to the heart of mystery--brushing against the mystical and colliding with all strangeness of a Murakami novel (in the best kind of way). And as I continue to experience life and write, maybe more folks out there will get hit with the magic and inspiration from it too.
Take note of all the ways you feel inspired this year. Keep following that thread of magic. It might lead you to the most unexpected places and people. And you might end up inspiring others along the way too.
