It's the end of the year: the time when the days are painfully short but are beginning to get a little bit longer each day. And I am feeling the most lost and unsure that I've yet felt in my 25 years and 5 months. I've spent the past six months (at least) asking everyone what they think I should do next, what they would do if they were me, and thinking of every possible future I want. And yet, I feel so far from knowing what to do. It sounds cheesy, but it's like I haven't been able to or have just chosen not to listen to my heart.
In this next year, I want adventure, new places, different views, wonder. I want to notice the little things, take the long way, savor a perfect peach, find moments of sheer confidence, discover unexpected joy, enjoy the journey more than I have. I want to make a promise to myself to live an honest life, like the trappers in Werner Herzog's movie about the Taiga. And also a promise to choose my life, and to not let it merely happen to me.
When I think back on this year, I think of a day working hard at the farm and then leaving at the end of the day, driving up the island to Mount Erie, hiking a ways, climbing until sunset, hiking back to the car, finding a place to eat dinner, coming home late, and then waking up the next day to another day of working on the farm or another day with my friends. I feel like I found friends with whom I felt like a little kid again, where we could spend countless hours, even days, together and not tire of each other. And now it feels pretty weird to be going our separate ways.
I feel confident and unsure. I'm excited yet there's a pit in my stomach. I feel committed yet adaptable. I feel freedom but attached at the same time.
So, I'm just going to keep moving, take it as it comes, breathe, and hopefully I'll learn to listen to the whisper of my heart at some point.
