To Love Yourself Where You Are

Hello there.

Long time no see, huh? To quote the 50+ emails I've sent over the past nine months, I hope this blog post "finds you well." The phrase may sound trite at this point, but it has never been said with more sincerity than it has in this year. It would seem that every month there was something new to stress about. COVID-19. Attacks on the Black community. Wildfires. Murder hornets? In any case, you've made it. Congratulations. We should all be entitled to merch that says "I Survived 2020."

So how are you? I'm willing to bet that this year did not go the way you thought it would. That was certainly the case for me. There were so many twists and turns, highs and lows, that we could barely keep up with it all. That was part of the reason why I took a hiatus from this blog. But the main reason I stopped was because every time I tried, it seemed...disingenuous. I couldn't write about being true to yourself, not going gentle, or embracing "the top of the hill" when I wasn't even doing so in my own life. I felt like nothing was being added; things were only being taken away.

Indeed, 2020 has taken so many things away from us: people, freedom, security, maybe a little bit of sanity. But today I encourage you to ask yourself: What has 2020 given you? In the midst of all this pain and suffering and moral reckoning, how have you grown and changed? What was it that brought you here, on the last day of 2020, still standing and ready for what tomorrow will bring?

It may sound silly, but for me, the early months of 2020 are characterized by constant movement and fretting. Some memories stand out, but more than anything it's just a feeling. There were so many things to do and worry about--and when lockdown struck, almost all of those things came and went in a silence that I was not prepared for. Before I knew it, all that was left was me, in the frenzied state I had worked myself into. I felt restless and frustrated; a million mysterious paths lay before me, and the weight of possibility was so immense that I couldn't bring myself to take a step. Something was telling me to stop and look around--to sit in the silence (wouldn't be my blog post if I didn't say that at least once).

All in all, 2020 has taught me to pay more attention to myself: to the way I perceive things, to how I take care of myself, to the passions I am drawn to. It has given me the time and space to consider how I treat and communicate with others--and it has subsequently strengthened and expanded my capacity to love. I had to work a little harder to be with the people I care about, and it was in that mutual effort that those relationships were strengthened. I realized that the million paths around me are only mysterious because they are waiting for me to make a choice. No longer is there a schedule to adhere to, requirements to meet; but in that immense (and terrifying) control lies the beauty of pursuing that desire to live in the first place, of embracing your spark (see: Soul, 2020, dir. Pete Docter).

In a time when so many things seemed to be taken away, 2020 has also made me thankful for what I do have. There are the usual that immediately come to mind, like good health, family, friends, a roof over my head, financial stability. And there are the ones that are more precious when they surprise you and are realized in the moment: Discovering a new favorite song. Zoom parties. Xiao Qi Ji the baby panda. Crossword puzzles. A solid arsenal of inside jokes. Maybe as you count down the hours to midnight, count the things you have to be thankful for, big and little. When you stop and really think about it, the list may be longer than you'd expect.

One virtue I have always sorely lacked is patience. And not just in the simple, "waiting-in-line-at-the-store" sense. In times of uncertainty and anxiety, patience is so, so hard to practice. You always want to know what's coming next and when. You want to know all the answers to your questions, if all the blood, sweat, and tears are worth it. In these months of apparent stagnation, I have been trying to master what seems like an impossible art. To take a deep breath and accept where you are now is so much harder than it seems.

That mysterious, ever-elusive future. Finding confidence in yourself. Taking worthwhile risks. Those seem to be constant themes in a lot of my posts. Part of me thinks it's because most people share these same thoughts, but more than anything I think it simply helps me to see them written out. They seem less intimidating and all-powerful. Most things usually do when they get out of your head.

More often than not, I find myself pining for a future that I can't yet picture. But in the end, the person who will be tackling that future, that first day of 2021 and beyond, is the person I am right now: the one who survived 2020. So I should also say it's important not only to love yourself where you are, but as you are--flawed, complex, and alight with the inexplicable determination to see tomorrow.

Happy New Year to you and yours, and may 2021 bring good health, fulfilled aspirations, and absolutely zero murder hornets.