A premise: I get insanely obsessive with the new year. I have to read certain books, do certain things, and then I have to write a blog post where I muse on and on about the year. One of the little ritualistic things I do with the new year is 108 sun salutations (it's an old yogic tradition that has to do with prayers and renewal and the wholeness of existence) and I started thinking about sitting and meditating after finishing my 108 sun salutations on New Year's Day of 2013 and wondering what the year had in store. Now, as the end has come, I decided, for my self-obligatory New Year's musings, to make a list of things I wish I could've known in that moment.
Happy New Year, beauties.
13 Things I Would Tell The Me of January 1, 2013
1.) I’m sorry that I ruined your life. It’ll pass. Use it as a growing experience.
2.) You will get into your dream school. Your mother will cry almost as hard as you do.
3.) You’re going to be disappointed. You will have a flight to New York cancelled because of snow. The boy who takes you to prom will not kiss you. You will come in second place.
4.) And then, as they always do, things will work out.
5.) Stop pretending to hate yourself. Embrace the fact that you are beautiful and cool and good at yoga. You have impeccable grammar. Loving yourself doesn’t make you better than anyone else.
6.) As always, read everything you can get your hands on. Unsurprisingly, words will heal you and complete you and arm you with good conversation topics. (Re: Good conversation topics: Listen when Avery Taylor tells you about giant rats paralleling Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in the sewers of Iran. It will benefit you more than you know. Also listen to Hailey James. Always. And listen to your parents.)
7.) You will see Europe. You will speak French and you will throw up four times between Paris and Venice. It will be terrible, but you will be traveling the world and that will make it less terrible.
8.) You will not kiss anyone for a very long time. This will be good for you. Don’t rush it. Try not to call it a “drought” and try not to bring it up in the first five minutes of any conversation. You will fail at both of those things, but it will end well.
9.) You will move across the country, and it will be terrifying and beautiful and scary and smart and it will make it easier to breathe and easier to miss people. New York will make you happy. You will meet people who understand you and the way you walk and talk and move and think. They will complete you. You understand that happiness is not climate-controlled, but the city will fill you with life and when someone asks you, “Are you happy? Would you change anything about your life?” you will answer honestly saying, “Yes, no, in that order.” Look forward to this moment. It will make you cry.
10.) God is good.
11.) Be kind. But also: Being passive aggressive will not get you anything. Please, say what you really mean. This would’ve solved a lot of things in the past, and it will certainly solve a lot of things in the future. Living with strange roommates and taking the subway to 42nd street on a Friday at 7 pm will teach you this.
12.) You have so many beautiful things. The world loves you. Your family is better than you know. Your hometown is the most beautiful place in the world. You will realize this, though you have known it for a very long time, very suddenly, all at once, one afternoon in December. Look forward to this moment. It, too, will make you cry. This time in public. You won’t care.
13.) And finally, this: Every year for as long as you can remember, you have told yourself on January 1st that this will be your year. Every year has had great things, but no year has ever been particularly, innately special. Every year was supposed to be your year, and then no year ever was. But, darling, this year? This year is your year.
An epilogue: "Look up at the sky. Ask yourself, 'Has the sheep eaten the flower or not?' And you'll see how everything changes... And no grown-up will ever understand how such a thing could be so important."
"I said to the sun, 'Tell me about the big bang.' The sun said, 'It hurts to become.'" -Andrea Gibson