Barring the boost of forced optimism that January usually brings, the month hasn’t been a particularly good one for the last many years now. Pockets of sunshine aside, I have had deep, brooding Januarys for the last 4-5 years now, where the energy has been more downwards, into the depths than otherwise.
This year, I daresay, I feel distinctly different. Optimism feels like too shallow a word tod escribe how I feel. There’s a deep, deep rootedness that I feel firm in the soles of my feet, that has enabled a sort of springing up. An ascent, a growing out, a maturing, a heart-opening that I have been witnessing slowly come together since the beginning of December.
I have been afraid to acknowledge it, or fully revel in it so far. Wondering when the January sheen will wear off, and the real colour of 2021 will begin to show. But today I said, fuck it. I’m here. I feel really good. And I’m down for it. I’m going to own it, in whatever shape or form it has arrived. Because God knows, it has shown up very differently this year. The joy, abundance, happiness and contentment in my life looks nothing I have come to expect or I have experienced it before.
I’m here for it. With every cell in my body, I’m here for it.