22 January | Travel
All my life I wasn't honest enough and I thought I would never get over you
Sahara Pt. II, Bear's Den
Is there anything left to say about 2016? Libraries’ worth of articles, tweets and ‘what the fuck’ conversations are trying to understand the year that was. So instead I am going to share how I start and spend each new year with a new word, because your life is not going to magically change at 12:01am (and if it did, please do share).
It all started back in 2015 when I was travelling and couchsurfing across North America. The word ‘grace’ kept showing up everywhere – on street signs, in song lyrics, and in things I was reading. Grace, hey? It was not a new word to me and it initially sounded kind of meek and meh. Certainly not very exciting or adventurous. Until I really thought about the state of grace.
Grace is soft, reflective and yet cutting edge self-awareness. Grace is throwing all your patience at your anxiety, knowing it will pass. Grace is knowing you will live through this dark night of the soul, like you have the others, even though it god damn hurts so bad. Grace is, as poet Rupi Kaur puts it, ‘to remain kind in cruel situations’.
I once met a woman who was grace personified in a yoga course when I lived in New York City. I was in awe of her presence and I couldn’t figure out why. She was magnetising, present and humble. My friend and I were discussing her as we walked home and she said: “She has a big Self. It’s so nice just to be in the same room with her”. That’s grace, self with a capital S.