Possibility. Even the word feels remarkable as I say it aloud. It conjures images of moments and places, people and events waiting to unfold. And this is why I love the turning of a year. All those unmarked calendar pages, so much possibility. The idea of loving something that we don’t yet know—this is what keeps me imagining, excited to show up in the world. I love being alive to all that is now; yet I also love the anticipation of joy to come. Because I have experienced joy and excitement and falling in love before I even knew a person (I think about the moment I saw my nephew or my own children and fell deeply in love with all the possibility before us), I can envision there is more to come.
Possibility
Possibility
Possibility
Possibility. Even the word feels remarkable as I say it aloud. It conjures images of moments and places, people and events waiting to unfold. And this is why I love the turning of a year. All those unmarked calendar pages, so much possibility. The idea of loving something that we don’t yet know—this is what keeps me imagining, excited to show up in the world. I love being alive to all that is now; yet I also love the anticipation of joy to come. Because I have experienced joy and excitement and falling in love before I even knew a person (I think about the moment I saw my nephew or my own children and fell deeply in love with all the possibility before us), I can envision there is more to come.