this one day I made a ring of snow angels, one after another, rolling out of each perfect precipitation-based impression and into the next one with all the abandonment of my childhood self, oblivious to who was watching.
this one day I woke up snuggled in a pile of giant stuffed animals, cradled in the loving warmth of my dear friends’ home, filled with gratitude for the whimsy so casually woven into the fabric of my day-to-day life.
this one day I danced until 2 am.
then got up the next morning, and danced some more.
until my body ached from moving.
until the only thing keeping me going were the smiles lighting up the faces of the pedestrians passing by me on that famous Toronto street corner. letting me know they were as delighted as I was about the life my community was getting ready to breathe back into an iconic building that was soon to be no more.
this one day I looked into eyes I had looked into before, without any possibility of having ever actually seen them previously, and knew something special was in store for me.
this one day I held pride and shame up next to each other, and found loving kindness waiting for me at the intersection, as I co-created the most poorly managed (from a time perspective) and yet emotionally magical closing I have ever facilitated.
this one day I came home to newspaper love notes on my doorstep.
this one day I paid an artist a silly amount of money to ink a perfect, whole, and balanced circle upon my back. knowing the value of having reached a place in my journey where I was ready for this form of self-expression was, in fact, priceless.
this one day I held space for someone who wasn’t ready for change, but just needed someone to love them where they were, no matter how many miles that was away from wellness.
this one day I found out that I got something I had wanted quite badly from the moment I’d first learned about it, and as I breathed my “thank you” into the universe, I’m pretty sure the wind whispered back to me: “thank you, v, for knowing what to ask for.”
For many years, no matter how many or how few posts I wrote on this blog during the rest of the year, I’ve been pretty committed to writing an intention setting post in and around new year’s day.
And for bonus reflection points, a birthday musings post as well.
This year I sailed through the first part of the year without feeling any need to post about my 2017 intention, and my 37th birthday is this Saturday and I have few, if any, thoughts or feelings I feel compelled to share here about its significance to me.
this one day, I was so in love with just *being* in the place I have co-created for myself with the beautiful people in my life, that I realized I was done – at least in this space – writing about it.
Thank you to all the many, loving readers who have met me here in this place over the last almost six years.
I’m sure me and my words will meet you again somewhere new one day.
I’m a writer. Writer’s write.
But for now, my place is no longer here.
It is out there in the ring of snow angels. Nestled in the pile of life-sized plush toys. Holding space for the ones who have lost their way. Finding balance and wholeness in the daily act of just being.