If there is one thing I have learned this year, it’s that I won’t ever be fully ready for what life throws at me. The unexpected always seems to happen, and the only control to really be maintained is how I act and react to this crazy little thing called life. 

I won’t always find the right words when it counts. I can’t invariably determine who has the best interests at heart and who to surround myself with. I may not know what right path to choose when fate itself is staring me down.  I have experienced that some things become broken, and cannot be put back together the way they were before, but that this can be for the better. Now I know I don’t always need to have the right answer; for trial and error is a golden opportunity.

I’ve learned that I can go on waiting for something, sustained by hope and expectation, nothing more— or I can put it aside and walk away. Bravely accept the knowledge that I cannot keep my heart safe any more than I can stop love from taking it all from me. Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. The two aren’t always comfortable, but they are never weak.

 

I have learned to live as authentically as I know how. To stop saying yes when I don’t really mean it, and to instead chase the things I have always aspired but feared to pursue. Faith and fear both demand that you believe in something you can’t necessarily see, but you choose. 

So I choose to allow my fingertips to skirt the darkness, as long as I keep my eyes fixated on the light. Knowing that when a door opens, following the close of another, that I have a whole new year ahead of me. Another chance at a full trip around the sun, a shot at getting it right this time around.