Life

Momentum

Posted on December 29, 2018

About a year ago, as 2017 started winding down, I found myself thinking that my life was feeling just a little bit stagnant in a few ways. The last couple of years had been pretty uneventful and consistent, which always seems like a really good thing until it goes on that way for just a bit too long and starts to feel more like being stuck in a rut than moving smoothly along. So I told myself that 2018 would be a year of change – by which I mostly meant growth and learning, where and when I wanted it – and I made a handful of goals that neatly corralled the change into very specific areas of life.

And then I tumbled into 2018. I think this is the point where I’m supposed to write something to neatly wrap up the past twelve months; label it a good year or a bad year and then close it up and move onto 2019, resolutions at the ready and a new list of goals in hand. But really, this has been such an odd, uneven, sharp-edged, terrifying, exhilarating, fast-moving kind of year that it’s felt a bit like pitching forward into a whirlpool, head-first, and not being able to come up for air when I want to. It’s been a good year. And a bad year. And every single thing in between.

This was the year of airports and overseas work trips and jet-lag like a loose wire somewhere deep inside my brain. It was a year that started off in a long-term relationship that had come to the end of its road, and it was a year that showed me how, actually, being single in my thirties is really quite wonderful. This was the year that cemented the importance of surrounding myself with good friends while underlining the need for “introvert time” to rest and recharge; the year that I learned (am still learning) that I don’t need to give time and space and energy to people or activities that don’t add value to my life in some way. This was a year when things went awry and then (sometimes) turned out better than expected, and it was a year that showed me that yes, the things I fear sometimes do actually happen – and life keeps moving forward.

So 2018 was many things at many different moments, but it was not by any accounts a stagnant year. If 2017 had me wanting to shake things up a bit, 2018 made me wish more than a few times for just a touch more calm and stability. That’s always the way it goes though, isn’t it – feeling like nothing much at all is happening until something comes unstuck and all sorts of things start happening, one after another. The ball starts rolling, and there’s not much that can be done to stop it until it runs out of momentum again.

I’m not quite sure what to expect from 2019. I wouldn’t mind a slightly calmer year, but I have a feeling there’s still a lot of momentum left to keep pushing me forward. I think I’ll be glad to leave 2018 behind, even though it had its fair share of highs to balance out the low moments and keep it from tipping over into the “bad year” category. I’m just a bit hesitant to set firm goals for this year – not because there aren’t things I want to accomplish, but because as much as I know that it’s not the case, it feels a tiny bit like 2018 was saying “oh, you wanted change, did you? Well here you go” to me, dumping everything onto my lap at once. Life can have an odd sense of humour sometimes.

So… 2019. I don’t know what it’s going to bring, but I guess I’m about to find out. And I have a feeling that whatever it has in store for me, it’s not going to be boring. Let’s do this.

Share this post: Pinterest Facebook Twitter

Leave a comment

Recently Written

Life  |  Travel

Homeland

The day before we leave, the temperature hits forty degrees Celsius and the humidity is clammy and close, inescapable. My suitcase gapes open on the living room floor; the fan whirrs continuously and stirs the air into hot, useless, frantic gusts. I sweat as I fold a jacket and sweater into the suitcase. Outside, the asphalt has gone soft and gummy from the heat. The cicadas in the trees along the river are screeching relentlessly, and the air smells faintly like garbage. I love Rome, but I have also never been quite so glad to escape Rome. Arriving in Vancouver is a...

Life

Two wheels

I didn’t really mean to become a cyclist. It just sort of snuck up on me, stealthily, until one day I was encased in skin-tight spandex and attaching my feet to the pedals with a pair of those special and deadly cycling shoes that simultaneously make riding a bike so much better and also so much scarier. It all started this winter, around the time when I began dating my boyfriend. He had a stack of bicycles leaning against the wall in his apartment and a pretty serious passion for cycling; I asked questions, curious, and perched experimentally on one of...

Life

Here, again

So. Hi! I think you’ve all realized by now that I’m not very good at actually writing in this thing. I have a lot of partially-completed posts lurking on my computer, fragments and half-paragraphs and sentences that sounded like the start of something when I jotted them down but didn’t turn into anything. And for a while that bothered me, because I wanted to write, and I wanted to schedule it out and outline a neat list of topics to follow and, basically, blog like a proper blogger should. But actually? I don’t think I really care about that. Isn’t there...

Travel

Bold and stark: The colours of Burano

Burano is a strange kind of place. If you search for photos of it, you’ll mostly come up with shots of ultra-saturated rainbow-hued buildings bathed in golden sunlight and girls in sundresses twirling cheerfully in front of doorways. Any maybe it’s like that during the spring or summer, when it’s warm enough that your lips don’t feel numb with cold after a few minutes of wandering around – but I was there in winter, mid-January, the deepest part of the season where sundresses and warm sunlight felt like a long-lost memory. So Burano, a tiny island in the Venetian lagoon, felt...

Food

Winter isn’t over yet: A warmly-spiced cookie recipe to keep you cozy

The wind is blowing hard today, a cuttingly cold wind that slices its way down through the narrow streets, slamming shutters back and forth on their hinges and ripping leaves and twigs off plants. The sky is brilliantly, deceptively blue; it looks like a perfect nearly-spring day until the wind gusts again and tips over a parked bicycle while sending a stray plastic bag flying through the air. “Senti che tramontana”, remarks an older man at the market as his scarf whips out behind him. The tramontana is a cold wind that comes from the north, from somewhere cold and snow-covered...

Travel

Venice: The allure of Italy’s most unique city

If you ask me, a good portion of Venice’s appeal lies in that fact that it seems so unbelievable. Here is a city that regularly floods, seawater gushing out of canals and covering sidewalks, creeping under doorways to invade homes and businesses. Here is a city of islands knit together by over four hundred small bridges, a city where water replaces streets, where boats replace cars, trucks, scooters and bikes. Here is a city that seems hostile towards the very old, the very young, the disabled, the distracted, and anyone who has to pull a wheeled suitcase for any distance...

View more posts
Show me posts about...