It’s been an odd year. For me, it’s been one of realizations but no attainments. I’ve aspired but fallen short. It’s all good. There’s always next year.
Many people have passed this year—some prominent, some not. It’s never easy losing a loved one or someone revered or admired outside the everyday realm. We shake our heads in puzzlement or dejection and ask why him, why her. We murmur how tragic and wonder how the void will ever be filled. It’s part of the cycle of life, one season evolving into another. Everyone has their time.
For most, the end of a year is a time to celebrate and welcome a new year. For me, it’s a period of reflection. Emotions ebb and flow like the Bay of Fundy tide. I always like to say I have no regrets . . . but I do. And then I cast them off. Regrets don’t enable growth; they stunt it.
My own life is entering the season of fall and I’m very aware of my (increasingly limited) time on earth. I can lament all that never was—or transpired, as the case may be—or I can celebrate events and endeavors, no matter how minor.