This time of year I look ahead to a year that is shapeless, undefined. With each year that passes, my expectation for the next unravels and I learn to hold my dreams and desires more loosely. I am happier when I expect less. Life surprises me, pleasantly.
I am only just beginning to learn the rhythms of freelance work, the ebb and flow. Winter is ebb, routinely my bleakest. And, it’s scary as hell but ripe with possibility. It isn’t a safe spot or a comfortable one but it keeps faith on its toes. If the spectrum of emotion colours life, possibility may be one of my favourite shades. It’s as true an emotion as hope and disbelief, joy and sadness. I think that’s why I love what I do; every blank canvas and every new sketchbook embodies possibility. That space of possibility is inherently hopeful…
For grand adventure yet embraced
For soulful exchange yet stirring
For opportunity yet discovered
For new friends yet found
For words yet read
For songs yet heard
For images yet made
For laughs yet shared
I haven’t the slightest what lies ahead but I will step away from the chaotic thought and tumultuous emotion that threatens to overwhelm me this time of year; fear, doubt, inadequacy, disappointment. I will forfeit my expectations and I will choose possibility, instead.
Hold me to it.