Monday, December 31, 2012

Sailing

I love New Year's Eve.
I love the new beginnings and the resolutions that, for me, are always the same: write, run, lose weight. I love having a plan to do those things that I care about. I love thinking about the year to come and how we will be different at this time next year.

 Last year, I remember being filled with hope and the feeling that 2012 was going to be epic. I actually said that aloud to Cory, and he agreed. And it was, I think, but not in the way I was expecting. For me, 2012 was about so many things. Adventure in Yellowstone, in New York, in mud volleyball. A goal reached through a half-marathon. A failure accepted in NaNoWriMo. Heartbreak through a miscarriage. And love- the true, messy, vulnerable kind from so many people around me. It was greatness. Sometimes painfully so, but still so worth it. I think my heart is a little bigger now.

I feel so lucky thinking back eight years ago- Cory and I left the Sanford's party and he took me home. The dining room was afire with candlelight and all my favorite love songs. Everything was perfect and beautiful and we were engaged. And still, I get that swept-away in love feeling of absolute peaceful joy.
I love New Year's Eve because it reminds me of all that I have. My friends and family are the ship that carries me along the wild seas of life, keeping me safe, helping me feel at home, and pushing me toward new adventure. My husband is an anchor who keeps me from drifting and feeling lost and alone.  And my daughter is the sail that flies exuberantly, full of joy and life.
And I think that was the point of 2012. That it was beautiful and painful. And though I hope for smooth seas in 2013, for once, the state of the seas will not change the fact that I will sail.