The Year Of, Like, Realizing Things

Dear Day Eighteen, 

You began with enlightenment, and then, what, I’m just supposed to take the reins? I mean, seriously. Have we not seen my behaviour across November? Are you really going to trust me to take initiative? 

You brought up a long conversation over coffee with my grandmother, where we spent hours discussing and dissecting the last few weeks. We mulled over the pitfalls of my month, the reasons I froze. Looking back, it all makes sense. I decided to jump headfirst into the deep end and haul every single uncovered skeleton out of my closet. Did it bring a sense of self-forgiveness to make sense of it all? I’m not so sure. It made me tired. 

As always, my phone is an unwelcome presence in my life. When the clouds cover the sky, it’s hard to remember the sun exists beyond them, but when that pesky little black screen promises to light up and whisk me away from reality, I buy in instantly. It’s more certain to believe the thing I can see, and I like certainty. 

I worry that if I spend too much time in my own thoughts, I’ll descend into unshakeable madness. Logically, I know it’s essential to process things, but it’s hard these days, when things feel so heavy… 

In my dreams, I have the motivation to do the things I want. I want to break out into the world, to see all the city sights, to carve out a community within the place I live. I want to chase experiences and tell interesting stories in twenty years. When I talk to people about my day, I’d love to have more to share than what I can offer now. 

I want to see live music, play music without fear, create art, write more, and read more. I want to learn to crochet a blanket, start a home garden, walk through the forest, make sourdough bread, learn to skateboard, and create, create, create. 

The only thing that makes sense to me right now is creation. I have spent so much time frozen, shutting down the parts of my mind that have always been dedicated to artistic expression. So much of this is fear, so much of my life is fear. Why am I afraid to try? 

The second thing that has become clear to me lately is that I must strengthen my understanding of spirituality. Which, if you offered to me as a “solution” a few months ago, would’ve sent me running out the door. But I must read up on spiritual beings and dabble in different understandings of this universe. I do not believe we exist in a vacuum, and I would like to feel tethered to something. I need to feel purpose and to feel supported. That means reading. That means sitting with my thoughts. That means dismantling so much of what I’ve come to believe are certainties… ie, we are nothing, this is nothing, and at the end, it’s “lights out”. 

And the third epiphany? I have to be gentler. With myself, with my perceptions of the world, of my life. I am not where I want to be. I may never be. One day at a time does not have to mean twenty-four hours of perfection. It can’t. I may still be worthy of love as I am. Even if my life is not filled with a highlight reel of near-constant excitement and bravery. Even on days when I just want to lie down and rest.

I have learned a lot this month. I do feel uniquely like Kylie Jenner and her friends in 2015. The year of, like, realizing stuff. Except my trajectory began as a few stray snowballs that turned into an avalanche. Many of these things were “clear” to me before, but now they’re smaller, more tangible, easier to put into practice rather than a laundry list of things I have to repeat to myself to no end. 

Those three things are the things I must hold close as 2025 comes to a close. Creation, spirituality, and acceptance. This year has felt very much like purging my past to make room for the new, only I mistook it for something different. I am clearing away the wreckage of my past, one day at a time, even on a day like today. 

Today I am free. Free from expectation. Free from fear. Free to take a nap, and thank God for that.

With love, 

Charlotte 

My favourite tree: new growth from a trunk that has been cut down.