A Year of Change

Photo by Vasily Nemchinov on Unsplash

Back in December, when we heard 2020 would be a year of change, many of us were excited to hear it. A fresh start, isn’t that what we all want?

The deafening fireworks are both a way to set our past alight and make some noise so the new year knows where we are at. Look at us, all ready to celebrate you… a perfect stranger.

New Year’s Eve is like the most optimistic blind date. We get dressed up in white and gold and glittering hope. Eau d’optimism perfumes our neck as we tilt our heads back to see the fireworks outside our window, or over the rolling waves, or above the blanket of white snow ahead.

10,9,8… Is it just me or does champagne taste of effervescent expectations and chocolate-dipped almonds (goals start tomorrow).

7,6,5… We dare to dream out loud like when we were kids.

4,3,2,1… and just like that, a brand new year is here, we hug, we cheer. 366 shiny new days. 2020 brought a spare, and something tells me we are going to need it.

Yes, when we heard this year would bring change, we smiled brightly. But there are different ways for change to come about, even when change is good.

Sometimes it’s a natural transition, so subtle in its progress you don’t really notice it till the end.

Sometimes you have to work for it, and you sweat, and you swear but you are in control, so at least there’s that.

Sometimes it catches you by surprise, like a revolving door when you are distracted. Slam, swing, scramble… and you’re on the other side.

Sometimes… sometimes something needs to break, it disintegrates, it hurts.

The virus shook the world and revolving-doored us inside. We wait, we watch, and we long for the endless possibilities that the 366 brand new days promised us. We can see a lot of things changing and there’s many more I suspect we don’t see at all. We are all living through this in our own way, and it’s hard to be as optimistic as we were, but who knows… good things may come of this yet.

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Slow runner, fast walker. I have dreamed in different languages. I read a lot. Yes, my curls are real.

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Agnes

Agnes

Slow runner, fast walker. I have dreamed in different languages. I read a lot. Yes, my curls are real.

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