top of page
Search
  • Writer's pictureA.S. Morris

Reflections in Sequins

Reflecting on the past 12 months feels like flipping through a haphazardly assembled encyclopedia, capturing the highs, lows, and mundane moments that have woven this year's narrative. It is the beauty of writing—having a tangible record of this rollercoaster ride. While I have not divulged every delightful moment of this calendar year—some experiences are best kept private. As I sit here, adding the final touches after the Ravens' win, on this quiet NYE, my husband, thinking I was engrossed in work (a fair assumption), jokingly insisted that I could only finish up if I took a moment to highlight how fantastic and handsome he is. So, here's to you, with all my admiration for your wonderful and dashing self.


Many revel in the excitement of New Year's Eve celebrations, whether amidst bustling city streets with ball drops and champagne toasts or in serene mountain retreats with midnight and moonshine; I am drawn to embracing December as a mid-year moment. In my line of work, the "year" traditionally concludes on 06/30, and I have contemplated adopting December as a potential replacement for June. This shift feels like a way to alleviate the pressure, steering clear of the anticipatory unease of what the New Year might brew in its cauldron. Instead of bidding adieu amidst wintry chill, I am inclined towards welcoming the New Year by the waterfront, surrounded by sandcastles and crab traps, embracing the summer solstice as a period for reflection and eager anticipation.


This year has not been our standout moment, personally or professionally. Honestly, I could extend that sentiment to encompass the past couple of years, though who is really keeping count? The holidays carried a different weight this time around. We followed our usual routines and checked all the boxes, yet that enchanting holiday spirit seemed to elude us. Once more, this isn't unexpected, and there wasn't any inclination to overcompensate for it. It's not about being content or discontent but a straightforward reality. Amidst it all, there were profound losses. We mourn the passing of two cherished and deeply beloved family members, marking significant voids that no reflection or festivity can fill.


I fully appreciate that an end-of-the-year blog post should come with some poetic lesson learned. Or my laundry list of opportunities for personal growth in the new year. I do not have that. This year hasn't been defined by significant moments of growth. Instead, it's felt like navigating through a series of distractions in life. While some who know us might argue there have been significant moments of growth, that wasn't our primary focus. As I reflect on the events of 2023, it's not the cozy, festive end-of-year activity one would like.


I am pretty alright about not being present to witness the clock striking 12; I discovered long ago that staying awake past midnight doesn't necessarily guarantee a great time. I have reached an age where I understand that whether I am awake or not, tomorrow will inevitably herald a new year. Although I must admit, I would not have minded a reason to don a sparkly party dress. I settled for a sequins-covered Raven's hoodie.


As I conclude this reflection on the passing year, it strikes me that life's journey is an intricate tapestry woven with a spectrum of experiences—some vibrant and joyful, others carrying a more subdued tone. This year hasn't been about ticking off conventional milestones or stumbling upon grand revelations. Instead, it's been a journey navigating life's ebbs and flows, discovering solace in quiet moments of realization, and embracing the highs and lows that shape our narratives. It's a tribute to the cherished memories of those who've left their lasting imprints on our lives.


As the countdown to the new year begins, I'm not fixated on the stroke of midnight. I welcome the understanding that the dawn unfailingly ushers in new possibilities whether I'm awake or asleep. Here's to the inevitable passage of time, to life's blend of bitter and sweet notes, and to the wisdom acquired through the diverse range of experiences that color our lives

54 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Grief.

Grief. A five-letter word that encompasses a cornucopia of meanings. Grief isn't linear and can't be tied up as a beautiful bow in the most luxurious ribbons. It comes in all shapes and sizes. I wasn'

Island (Life).

It’s been a while since I’ve had the time to sit and write - and even this is a brief touch-down. For the past four months, we’ve been navigating many things; moving, death, grief, and professional wh

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page