yearSelf

“Who knows where life will take you, the road is long, and in the end... the journey is the destination.” – One Tree Hill

My sunglasses are down, the roof of the car is open and all there is ahead of me are two lanes divided by a double yellow line. This is a sort of freedom that I've come to know really well this year...

I look to my left- I look to my right. I check my mirrors and I smile. An Usher song is blasting but because of the wind, I can barely hear more than a bassy beat echoing through the car. I love it: the disorientation, my hair blowing from side to side. I feel my hamstrings begin to sweat from the humidity that is inescapable. I check myself out again (hehe), and I think about how I got here-to Houston- in August- in this mustang convertible.

This is pretty amazing.

I decide that I got here by focusing on what I call “yearSelf”-- yes “yearSelf”. Many people have often said to, "focus on yourself more Libs" so I made "yourself" into a yearlong quest. A yearlong open road with, a yearlong road trip—where I am always in the driver’s seat, only envisioning one lane—the one that goes forward, rather than back.

A lot’s happened this year—but to look back on it—to be nostalgic about it—would be a bit hypocritical of that last line. But sometimes, in writing, it’s okay to be a bit hypocritical—and why? Because in writing, we can make our own rules (and why? Because I said so). So here goes:

I started taking acting classes in January and made an incredible group of friends that I now consider family.

I took up a yearlong challenge to try one new thing a week—starting in February, that I pre-conceived in January.

I’ve dated—and had a break up.

I’ve called home more.

I've worn bright colors (and yes this makes a huge difference in life)

I’ve ran my second half-marathon—this time with a good friend.

I’ve meditated.

I’ve written more.

I’ve taken time for me.

I’ve had dizzying discoveries, and beaming break-throughs.

I quit my job in July.

I took a freelance job in August.

And it’s ONLY August.

That’s how I got here. To this moment. In this white mustang convertible, that we’ve rented for work. That’s how I got here—to this open road ahead, both literally and metaphorically. And I’m not so worried about any forks, because I’ve made some tough decisions this year too. Ones that I have yet to regret—and don’t for-see regretting anytime soon or ever--cause *Life is too short to have regrets.*

But the only decision that’s mattered—truly mattered, is the one where I decided to take the year—to focus on myself. To make 2012, my open road—my metaphorical road trip—my journey--my “yearSelf.”

I challenge you to take one of these yourself—without any destination in mind—because really—the only destination—is the journey.

A little voice inside my head said: Don't look back--You can NEVER look back

image copyright: Creative Commons

I refuse to sit backwards on a train unless I absolutely have to. I have always said that this would be the perfect character detail---the perfect architecture for the personality construction of someone who is stuck in the past—who can’t see tomorrow or even the present. All that is on his or her mind is yesterday, or the day before that—the mistakes made that are long past, the regrets, the moments that have already gone by.

I like to think of myself as someone who will always sit looking forward on a train, because I am always thinking of the next step, the next place, and the next goal I can set for myself—another deadline—another dream.

So when I look back, I try to make it on very prime moments in my life—very proud moments.

A lot of people might say their proudest moment was the day that he or she got accepted in to college—or the day they graduated college. Someone might say that it was the moment they hit their first homerun on the baseball field, or drew their first accepted museum piece. Another person might say it was in making their loved ones smile. But when I do look back, and see these things—these achievements, none of them are the ones I want to say are my proudest moments. Even being given the opportunity and being asked to play for a division one field hockey team doesn’t rank on the top of my list, despite the hard work and effort – and money for camps and equipment – that contributed to that achievement.

No. My proudest moment was nearly two years ago, when I finished the Lehigh Valley Half Marathon, after four months of intense training. It was the moment that I fell to the feet of one of my high school teachers and said “I did it.” It was in the moment that I thought I couldn’t take anymore pain—that I would have to cut off my legs—that I would never walk anymore. It was in the moment that I accomplished something I had once said I would never even attempt. It was in the moment that I came back from my runner’s high and realized what I had just done. It was in that moment, that my heart pounded heavily, and that I truly felt on top of the world. It was in that moment, that I found the most pride in my life.

It’s hard to believe that was two years ago. It’s hard to believe that a moment in two years hasn’t topped that. So as I look back and smile over a proud moment—over a moment of ecstasy, I turn myself around on the train, and I begin to look forward again, I remind myself to set new unrealistic goals—new unrealistic dreams—and make them real…make them something I never would have believed I could do—make them my next proudest moment.

What’s your proudest moment? What’s your next proudest moment?