twenty - eighteen

I've with-held myself from the keyboard for a year. For a moment in time, my memory feels fickle enough to betray me. Oozing away every detail I spent the last twelve months. They seem to have slowly escaped me.

I remember frustrations of February, and low-morale in the early winter. Professional life had me experiencing growth spurts - with pains painful enough to make me realize that I have outgrown my position's competencies. Demotivated is a horrible feeling. I was wearing anxiety, bricks in my chest and tear-stained cheeks. Waking up every morning felt like an ache. I had outgrown the challenges of my wage and craved more fair puzzles my way.

Spending spring with my mama by the windmills of Volendam, florals of Keukenhof, enjoying coffee and waffles in Brussels and admiring the fortress of Luxembourg City. I remember giggling away across Europe with my mama, feeling most loved and wonderful - with every conversations reminding me of how lucky I was. My heart and morale recuperated in ways. Spending quality time with my mom always does the trick. 

Moving on my own for the very first time in May.  Having a one-bedroom all to myself and sun-soaked summer balcony days, reading my afternoon away.

Spending a month away in Amman, fully knowing it would be my last visit in a while. Finding myself blooming as a being - both professionally and personally. Realizing my capability to be on my own and alone in the desert that have witnessed caravans of histories. Feeling finite from the sands that ran between my toes and the infinite stars above me. Courage was within my fingertips - and my Creator was all encompassing.

I remember the rush of Wadi Mujib. Canyoning rocks, and pulling my weight on ropes as the water that rushed tried to drown me. Every frustrations February before amplified. And my body embodied the perseverance in resistance. To receiving a phone call end of July of a promotion. It was relief and sadness all the same. But mostly victory for the opportunity to begin again.

September was a period of transitions. New work beginning and getting over the learning curve.

And in November, I settled into a groove. In between balcony and hammock nights of Bocas del Toro, Panama - I felt cuddled into peace. Between empanadas and brewed coffee in Boquete where musicians filled the air, I finally felt in place.

Now here I am reminiscing in my candle-lit living room. Reliving my year on the second-last day of December. Hoping for greater courage to strengthen my spiritual-self. And for light to guide my heart and path in the new year that comes my way.

Steps of Cordoba

Do you think of me, as you wander the cobblestone steps of Cordoba? When the flamenco guitarist fiddles string - is it my fingers you imagine twirling and intertwined in between. Like in Lisbon some nights ago, when the fado singer croons and we caught each other's smile at ease.

Venturing separately into unknowns. Yet finding breadcrumbs of familiarity in each other's path, sensing footprints and heartbeats while apart.

-written June 2018