Two Thousand Fifteen

I’ve decided to stop making promises on the eve of a new year. My old resolutions usually fade into stress by February and by then I've completely missed the magic and freedom of January. Instead, I try to remember and drink in key moments from the last 12 months. 

This year, we have moved 4 times. I left a job and we moved from Oakland to the mountains, I started a dream job and we moved to the heart of Silicon Valley- only to see the business abruptly sold and dismantled a few months later. We left our belongings in storage and took a few suitcases to the mountains again. Joey toured for the larger part of the year and I’ve lost count of the goodbyes and happy hellos we’ve said. In airport layovers and quiet mornings sitting my childhood home I’ve found parts of myself I’d forgotten were there. I started to make things, and people liked them. One weekend back in April Joey and I wandered the Golden Gate Park botanical gardens and it was the very best day. There were many times when I had to manually reset underlying anxieties and remind myself that I am only 24/25 and this wandering will lead me somewhere great if I continue to keep these eyes open. 

I love to think of the future and work hard to fulfill a dream. But I am learning that -as plans begin to break apart and life starts shifting- grappling to put together “Life Plan B” while fervorously clutching onto old expectations often leaves me disappointed and exhausted. Adulthood will never be a smooth journey and growing up is deciding when it is worth it to go against a current or turn around move with the bracing wind.

So I am here on the last day of 2014, in the car with my best friend as we drive to Los Angeles to see the new year with friends. Our car is messy, filled with gas receipts and coffee cups which all bear slightly-different versions of a hip logo stamp on their sides. Our tennis shoes, coats, and sleeping bag roll around in the trunk- where they have stayed since our first move the year. Outside, it is overcast with mixture of cloud cover and ag. pesticides- though many of the produce fields are empty from a year of drought. But under the dead layer of brown grass I see the faint green of new growth and this beauty feels more like California than any white-sanded beach. I savor this moment of regrowth. California and I are pruned to the roots and ready for you, 2015.