Dear 2007,
I wanted to write and thank you for the goodtimes we shared over the course of the last twelve months together. There were a few curve balls, but that is what makes life interesting, right? Thank you for everything that you taught me. You introduced me to a different sort of pace that I haven’t always been accustomed too. You made me slow down and create boundaries with my work. You introduced me to people and ideas and a social life that I probably would not have sought on my own. You created perfect complexities and painted my walls and days so many shades of beautiful grey. Thank you for the moments where you urged me to let go and fling my hands into the air and fully experience the thrill of the ride. By now you have packed your things and left. I quietly let you go, I think we both know that it’s time to move on. We had a small, demure dinner party here at the house. We toasted you, and then within the hour I quietly crawled into my crisp sheets. I dreamt of 2005/2006, and riding my bike down the hill through the puffs of fog to the surfers and joggers of west cliff. It seems like worlds away, but it was just before you. In the coming twelve months I plan on doing a few things differently. I intend on saying no, frequently and proudly. It’s time I start protecting me and my time more cautiously. I intend on placing the large rocks in the jar first, rather than first trying to place the bazillion little precarious pebbles. I want a big life, with little means. I’m going to continue using my voice and sharing it with others. I might even ride that bike of mine from Napa to LA or Rosarito to Ensenada, just for the thrill of it all! Thank you again, c.
