I have written and rewritten this bio a hundred (thousand) times over and with each iteration it feels somehow closer to the truth and also…not…
As I write this iteration, it’s New Year’s Day, 2024.
I am not one for resolutions…as someone who struggles to feel comfortable charging money for Reiki services and who took to veganism as a means to “fight the man,” I find myself falling back into scarred and habitual criticism this time of year. I soapbox about how capitalistic marketing that touts the importance of a “new year, new me” directly opposes the natural circadian rhythms that, when attended to, provide all the sweet freedom we’re supposedly being sold via diet plans and beauty routines.
I refuse to set time-sensitive goals because…in my “humble” opinion…time is a construct.
And even though my OBVIOUS teen angst may not have been a phase, this year I find myself in consideration of what it means to have a sprawling calendar ahead. As I begin to scroll through the empty boxes that mark 2024, I am awed by the sheer amount of S P A C E that begs to be filled with things that breathe joy into the otherwise monotonous 9-5 lifestyle by which we all subscribe.
I feel…hopeful? Excited? Eager to take hold of possibility and potential and use time in favor of creation, connection, and imagination; returning to the familiar wonderment of childhood summers that seemingly sprawled on forever.
Where once the passage of time reminded of aging and goodbyes, I am noticing how magical it feels to embrace the expected ebbs and flows of existence with appreciation.
Curiously studying the subtle magic that only exists in the flux and the wise energy that inspires seasonal change - that weird moment that lives in-between the sparkle of freshly sprinkled snow and the bloom of bright, spring flowers - when everything is melting and dirty and exposed - when we don’t need snow shovels but we don’t quite need gardening gloves either.
It’s in those periods of truly juxtaposed stagnant change that we just need time. Time to pause, to reflect, to prepare, and to enjoy the transition even though we already know what comes next. It’s the decided choice to lean in and find beauty amidst the messy turnover from what has been to what will be; life itself.
When I think about who I am, it feels less remarkable to note the training, the experience, or the schooling that ensures my ability, but to instead offer insight about the kind of life I want to live…a life that embraces potential and possibility with eager curiosity and a willingness to root into this day, this moment, this breath. Just for today…
