Dear 2018 –
How are you feeling on this final day of your year? Are you
feeling thankful it’s done and 2019 can take over with the madness? Maybe you’re
sad that you won’t be around to see the fruits of your labor. I suppose you
could be ever so excited to pass the baton to 2019, accomplished in all you did
the past 365, but also ready to rest. Maybe you’re feeling the bittersweet sentiment
of remembering a year full of experience and anticipating a night full of wistful
hope.
Whatever you’re feeling today, know that I’m grateful for
you and all the lessons you had me learn this year. When we started our journey
together, I was timidly sharing a big decision I made about the direction of my
life, and I was terrified because I had NO IDEA what any of it would mean. Even
as the months passed, and I was just going with my gut and following what I
thought should come next, you held me. You held space for me to take the risks,
feel the waves of every choice, and sit with the outcome – whatever it was. You
gave me time to feel sad or defeated, but you also encouraged me to accept those
feelings and learn from them. You helped me rise above perceived failure, so
that I could come back stronger, wiser, and more prepared. Like the ideal
teacher, you trusted me enough to learn through experience, while gently guiding
me with your deep wisdom. You always knew the outcome of every choice, but you allowed
me to make decisions my way while keeping a close enough eye to pull me from
waters too deep to navigate. For that, 2018, I so appreciate you.
This year, more than ever, I have been able to experience everything for what it was and learn the lesson without shame. You have given
me space, and more importantly, permission to step into the person I’m truly
meant to be. It hasn’t been the easiest, and it’s certainly still a little
scary, but oh, how liberating it all is.
I hope that I have made you proud. I hope that I learned
what was intended, and that I’ve used those nuggets of knowledge to better myself,
and to bring the lesson to others. I hope that you have seen in me growth, deep reflection,
learning, and room to continue. I hope that you feel a sense of calm, that you
trust me and the trust that I place in a divine wisdom.
I hope that I have given you something too. In the past 365 days,
while you nurtured and endured, I hope that I was never too harsh or ungrateful
for the gift you were giving me. Know that I am deeply touched by the generosity
of every opportunity to experience all I love. I’m so grateful for every
gathering with friends, occasion too meet new people, traveling to new places,
experiencing old moments in new ways, cultivating seeds of relationships to
grow into beautiful gardens, witnessing love in a multitude of ways, and for
every new sunrise and sunset you gave me – I thank you.
I know I’m not always the easiest person. I’m deeply
emotional AND analytical, which makes me a walking dichotomy, but you have
really helped me to see how to use those characteristics for a higher good, and
how to change the parts of that narrative that no longer serve me. You have
shown me how to use the tools I’ve collected over the years, how to embrace who
I am and share her with everyone I meet. You have allowed me to make the
mistakes without judgement, and then helped me learn with deep compassion. You
have shown me why I don’t need permission from anyone else, and how to own my
power.
2018, you have given me more gifts that I could have
imagined. 2019 has some big shoes to fill, but I’ll embrace the lessons it has
for me too, because you’ve shown me how to do that with grace and love. I know
there are only more opportunities ahead, and I’m ready to forge that path. I’m
no longer afraid, no longer overly cautious, no longer making decisions in fear
or hiding. You have freed me, and there is no better gift than that.
Tonight, when I say my last goodbye to you, I will remember
every journey you’ve taken me on. I will bid you adieu with love and gratitude.
I will embrace 2019 with an open heart and mind. Sleep well, 2018, and thank
you.
In Joy,
Courtney Chivon
