Fight

The fact of the matter is that life is just hard sometimes.
And it's easy to lose ourselves in the hardness of it.
In all the false starts and futile attempts.
In all the dreams still dreams.
But without dreams and hopes and inspiration, what is there left to strive for?

I get why it's easier -- safer perhaps -- to just accept defeat than to crash in continual disappointment.
But that's the tricky thing about life.
You just never know when something could change for the better.
When wounds could heal.
When you might catch a break.
Or achieve the most impossible dream.

So fight against the mundanity. Every day.
Fight against the hard to reconcile reality glaring in stark contrast against the entire universe you've dreamed up for yourself.
Fight against depression. Against anxiety. Against any and all voices that would seek to silence you, or to sentence you to a fate that was never ever intended to be yours.
Fight to hold on.
Just a little bit longer.
Knowing that, believing that, there is beauty to be found in all of it.

Winter

I am drawn to contrasts. To the desert and the desolate. To the cold, frozen tundra. For even in the desert, brilliant species of cacti thrive. Even in an Icelandic winter, emerald moss sprawls itself on the rugged terrain and grass emerges beneath the snow and ice. Waves crash on the frozen, rocky shores, and the mountains sparkle with dustings of powdered sugar snow against periwinkle skies.

Winter can be harsh, but life emerges despite its harshness. If things were always warm and pleasant and easy, I would never know what it’s like to be challenged. To die and be reborn. To face my utter weaknesses and yet be surprised by my secret strengths.

So I embrace you, winter. I embrace you — understanding that you, my dear familiar winter, may not always give way to spring. But I will try to hold on to the little things. How the crispness of your air reminds me that blood flows through my veins. How you welcome the sun’s warmth, just as summer does. And how you show me over and over again that life not only persists, but thrives, under your brilliantly bright cloak of white.

Remember

Remember who you are.
Remember how far you’ve come.
Remember the stars
In all their brilliance –
In their constant companionship
On the darkest, coldest midnights.
Remember the moon,
How it glows for you.
To guide you,
To remind you,
That light is always present, 
Even when you cannot see it.
Remember the sun –
How it rises every single day, 
Of every single month,
Of every single year.
How it rises with promise,
And hope, and warmth.
These are just a few
Of a million quiet reminders
That you are not alone in this universe.
That your path holds purpose.
That your story is a work of art,
Still unfolding, and evolving,
And becoming more and more beautiful,
So remember who you are.
Remember how far you’ve come –
And how far you’ve yet to go.

New Year

To be fearless is nothing at all. I think this past year taught me that fearlessness and boldness are two very different things. Boldness is not the absence of fear – but perseverance in spite of your fears. By all accounts, my successes at times could be considered by many as less than noteworthy. But this thing we call life was never about trophy or triumph. To be fearless requires nothing. To be bold requires everything. I’ve felt a little beaten down, a little wounded, a little tired. I’ve scolded myself for being too idealistic. For opening my heart. For holding onto dreams that drift further away with each passing year. But I’m still here. I’m still here. And that has to count for something. Perhaps it counts for a good many somethings. If our successes are not measured by what we can achieve but in our ability to give everything we’ve got, even on the days we’ve got very little to give, then I have succeeded far beyond my expectations. 

Outside my window, the tiniest flakes of snow swirl and dance. The earth is still. Covered in white. And all I know is that I’m still the girl who believes in possibilities. In beauty, and love, and breathtaking light. I’m still the girl who is so far from fearless but embraces boldness. What that will require of me I can’t know. Maybe this new year is my denouement, and the scenes of my story so far will finally make sense. Maybe not. But I can’t focus on that. All I have right now is this tiny fraction of time, this flicker, this hushed wind. And I’m not looking back. I’m not offering my best 9 moments, but rather I’m offering this one, solitary moment – and then I’m moving forward. Fearful, and hopeful, and fully alive.
 

On Climbing

I would climb a thousand feet and a thousand more until my legs burned, and my lungs burst. Because nothing is as great a reminder that the world is bigger and brighter than we could ever imagine – that we shine when we give ourselves permission to breathe fully, to surrender recklessly, to soar exquisitely.