11. Gratitude

Hello, again…

As with every year, 2022 has given me trials, lessons, and the tumultuous beauty of transformation. With the closing of the year upon me, I spend time reflecting on what was. I’ve developed some habits over the years (decade, maybe?). In every sketchbook or journaI start, I write the date and words that guide my spirit on the first page. Then, I leave the following page blank. This sets the tone for whatever comes next in my time with that book. And, once I reach the final page, I leave the thoughts of my heart until my pen runs dry. The themes of this year’s journal (and, ultimately, the entirety of this year) were: Gratitude, Health, and Joy. Let’s begin.

I remember I spent my New Year’s morning at the beach with my partner, the first time I’ve ever done so. As the earth turned and brightened, gray overcast filled the morning sky. The ocean reflected the dreariness of its counterpart. I was surprised there were others who had similar New Year beach traditions.

In the final hour, the light will shine through the Gray. But, do not rush the Gray, as there is so much beauty in the overcast.

Time slowly crept forward as the waves rumbled and danced their way to shore. My partner grew impatient with the clouds hiding the Sun from us, but I suggested we wait just a little bit longer. I’m glad I did. Something stirred my soul awake and, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I wrote a poem. A poem about love. Specifically, the words I assumed were shared between the Sky and the Earth, lovers who spent intimate nights together until daylight forced them apart and to long for each other’s embrace.

Within the final minutes of the hour and the last words from my spirit, the Sun pierced through the monotone curtains. Soon after, the Sky was a brilliant and resonant cobalt blue. That set the tone for the year — In the final hour, the light will shine through the Gray. But, do not rush the Gray, as there is so much beauty in the overcast. The themes of my journal soon followed. I opened the blue book with a peacock and the words “You be You” on the cover. On the first page, I wrote “Gratitude. Health. Joy.” These became the pillars of my year and my life.

Yet, somehow, I kept walking. Kept sailing. Kept going.

I spent the majority of 2022 in The Gray. The Gray is similar to Limbo — the place where I’m sailing, but unsure of where I’m going. The skies and oceans are murky, with a dense fog that warps all sense of direction. For me, I was unsure of where my life was guiding me. I grew to despise teaching, I questioned my worth, I lost myself in panic, and I found my way to unease. Every step left me more confused and uncertain. Yet, somehow, I kept walking. Kept sailing. Kept going.

In the midst of The Gray, my anxiety reached levels I hadn’t experienced in a long time. I pondered myself into migraines and wrote until my hands cramped. I kept this up for months until, one day, the words my spirit poured into my journal rattled me to the core. I admitted to myself that 1. I’m exhausted, 2. There are too many things outside of my control, and 3. I must relinquish control of these things to the Higher Powers.

I became what I didn’t have. Now, I need to define and become who I want to be.

Meditation has been my anchor throughout this journey of and to Self. Through mindfulness and meditation, I’ve learned three things that have become life mantras: 1. Everything begins and ends with gratitude, 2. Clarity is found in the stillness, and 3. Grace will catch me in the surrender. As the year progressed, I heard my words shifting. I started to embrace The Gray and find beauty in the haze. I realized that I can’t rush this, nor should I. If I did, there would be too many lessons and lovely clouds I would have missed. In this acceptance, I realized my loved ones were, too, going through The Gray. This led me to coaching.

In helping my friends organize their brilliance, I started to find purpose again. I felt fulfilled, but I also felt encouraged to define my life values. In this, I stumbled upon paths of clarity and curiosity. I leaned heavily into my village and many of the wise words of my therapist. I became what I didn’t have. Now, I need to define and become who I want to be.

I’m still figuring out who I want to be. It feels as if I’m crafting every puzzle piece, hoping that some of them fit. Never-ending trial and error. But this is where I learned Gratitude. It is such an honor to live, love, lose, and learn. To share in the Breath of Life. To bathe in the Waters of Hope. To dance to the Rhythms of Time. And to partake in the Bread of Comfort. My face has earned new gray hairs and my heart has grown new stretch marks. Through it all, I continue to remember and appreciate that everything begins and ends with gratitude.

-M