Well hello there,
The holiday hiatus is finally coming to an end, I am back in front of a computer and trying my best to welcome the New Year with love, ease, and patience. Too often I feel rushed into newness, throwing out old clothes, shedding past selves, completely transforming as if the first forty-eight hours of a new year are the most important. The truth is, I spent the first week of 2024 doing everything I wanted. I took an extra week off work, made cocktails and sipped on red, white, and orange wine. I ate lots of desserts and pasta, woke up late and spent time on my phone. I lounged around the house and only exercised when I felt compelled to. I ate fast food, I cried, I laughed, and every second felt perfect, except for the voice in my head that told me the New Year is supposed to be filled with everything I wasn’t doing, filled with very little I suppose.
New Year’s Resolutions may be my least favorite moment of the yearly countdown. In the past, my resolutions were built on restraint – less drinking, less eating, more sweating, more working. They are exhausting, unobtainable, and often built on shame. It is no wonder January has the highest rate of new gym goers and membership sign-ups while March is one of the busiest times for fast food chains across America. Resolutions are built to fail. So I threw mine out, made an “In’s and Out’s” list instead, and rejoiced in moments of peace.
I created a Goodreads account and set a 2024 goal of reading one hundred books, overzealous without a doubt, fun nonetheless. I folded all my clothes previously thrown into my dresser, wrote thank you cards for my holiday gifts, drank a gallon of water each day, and carved out time to connect with old friends and send voice messages to new ones. I read more books, watched more movies, and let myself live into nothingness on the plane back to Colorado from Minnesota - staring into the ceiling with headphones in but no music playing, letting my brain wander until it found a soft corner and let me relish in the silence.
After a New Year’s celebration filled with caviar, digital camera flashes, pickle juice martinis, and slicked-back hair, the lists of “Ins and Outs” written after dinner filled my mind with many questions. What do I leave behind? What do I take with me? What shall I forget, remember, or abandon? Who shall I create when I am completely free to become? In all these questions, I found myself returning to moments throughout last year that came to me as if by chance, begging to hold on, wishing for more time. Here are some moments from last year that have latched to me and I hope will never let go.
My twenty-third birthday celebration in Champagne, France. On the train to Reims while watching rural France zoom by, I hoped the taste of wine grown from vines centuries older than myself would remind me of a youth within me I felt was somehow already fleeting. Walking through vacant country towns, eating a niçoise salad, and falling asleep on the train back to Paris, I knew that I was full of time, that nothing was lost, and that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
Moving home for the first time in seven years. A boulder of memory, youth, and discomfort dramatically altered my creative process and perspective. Pens and paper, books, journals, typewriters, and drawing paper became my sources of release, portals to new places. Learning how to prioritize my peace, my brain, and my bookshelf, I slowly began to let go of all I felt I was missing, welcoming in my younger selves as I cleaned out my closet and slept in a home that has held me since I was nine.
Attending the symphony at Carnegie Hall. While listening to Beethoven’s Ninth in dirty jeans and a ripped t-shirt, I felt so much rise to the surface. As I began to weep, smile, and sit in complete fascination, I never wanted the seventy-minute performance to end, never knowing I needed this moment of complete spontaneity to lead me to a new passion, a new perspective.
Graduating from college. It was hard but it was beautiful. I am proud of my work and proud of the person I became. I am grateful to no longer be the boy left on the curb four years earlier, but feel more connected to him now than I did when I was living it. I love my friends, I love learning. I am so happy it is over.
Drinking negronis and eating hotdogs, slurping soup dumplings and wearing vintage leather. Crying in the shower, laughing while lying in bed, falling deeper in love with my boyfriend, and smiling at myself in the mirror each day. Learning how to take my time, not posting on Instagram, and finding new ways to live a better life. Cheers, 2023, you’ve done me well.
That is all for now. Happy New Year.
Until soon,
C
xx
Beautiful