Read This If You Feel Like Your Last Year Was Completely Insignificant

I hope this year taught you that it’s okay to be okay, and that it’s okay to not be okay.

By

girl in a field
God & Man

This year has been a quiet year, a year painted in blurred pastel hues and quiet, flowing lines. It ha been a year of fewer contrasts; fewer highs and lows. This year the changes were delicate, and the lessons were subtle, hiding deep beneath the surface. The sweet moments were gentle, while the heartaches silently lingered on through days and months.

And though the seasons were unremarkable, and the days more mundane, buried deep beneath the surface were little stories, little sparks of hope. Beneath the blurred colors were treasures and lessons, blessings and hopes that this year has quietly left upon your shoulders.

Through the softness and uncertainty, I hope you learned that t being alone doesn’t always mean being lonely. I hope you learned how to enjoy the company of yourself; I hope you giggled out loud when you watched movies all by yourself. I hope you took comfort in drinking tea and eating dark chocolate on a Sunday morning, just you, your puppy, and a cozy plush blanket.

I hope that buried beneath the anxiety and anticipation you may have felt, you learned that sometimes you may want someone or something that isn’t good for you, and that sometimes you have to give up what you want with the faith to wait patiently for what you need. I hope you learned that waiting would lead you to something even more wonderful.

This year I hope you learned that beauty is never a comparison; and that her beauty does not negate your beauty. I hope you could see that no two flowers look alike, yet the contrast between two is simply breathtaking. I hope you complimented and celebrated your best friends and coworkers, without wondering if you are worth celebrating.

I hope that this year you were light. I hope you were playful and joyful. I hope you embraced your youthful heart. I hope you giggled more, and I hope you stood back up whenever you tripped. I hope you told silly jokes, and laughed until you couldn’t breathe. I hope you smiled more.

This year, I hope you began to understand that sometimes when you lose yourself, you gain the whole world; that when you say farewell to the person you used to be, you say hello to the person you were meant to be.

I hope your heart has inspired you to believe that losing yourself is part of the beautiful path towards finding yourself.

I hope this year brought you comfort in uncertainty. I hope you started to understand that not knowing what was next was only a reflection of the infinite number of possibilities the world had waiting for you.

I hope you walked with barefeet through the damp grass , and painted your toenails an electric shade of blue. I hope you wore your hair in a messy ponytail, and smiled at the leaves in your hair after a late afternoon autumn walk.

I hope this year brought you closer to your body. I hope you started to see your body as your home. As something to care for, as something to love.

I hope you learned that your thoughts and your feelings have meaning and power, and that they take up magical space. I hope this year taught you that you, unedited, unfiltered, and untouched, have the power to move the world.

This year, I hope you hula hooped after work, and had breakfast for dinner. I hope you went on spontaneous picnics, and always said yes when you were offered a chocolate glazed donut.

This year, I hope you were the person who smiled at everyone, the person who said “Hi” first. I hope you were the person who made small talk have meaning and depth. I hope you let someone go in front of you in the line at the grocery store, or you bought a random stranger a Starbucks frapp, just to share a little bit of kindness.

I hope you learned that sometimes life is kind and sometimes life is bitter, and that you will be okay through both times. I hope you learned to turn your bitterness into growth, and your hurt into compassion. 

Most of all, I hope you learned how to be okay with who you are and where you are.

I hope this year taught you that it’s okay to be okay, and that it’s okay to not be okay. I hope you learned that just like the moon, you are still yourself, through all of your phases. And just like the earth, your lightness will always follow your darkness. Morning after morning, the sun never fails to come out, time and time again. No matter who you are or where you are, your light will always return. Thought Catalog Logo Mark