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.