Peace out 2014

What can I say? I don’t usually do these year end wrap-up things but was going through a bunch of pictures last night, trying to avoid the chocolate peanut butter balls my friend made me for Christmas, and started feeling nostalgic. Seriously, I could have bit it in September.

When I started looking back over 2014, here’s what came to mind:

In January I started blogging again after more than a year away. I’m still not sure how I feel about it. On the one hand I like having a record of what I’m thinking/doing, especially since I had another stroke. On the other hand, I want to get rid of 90% of those old outfit posts and slap myself. One positive is I feel like more of my voice has emerged and that’s what I’m after, authenticity and a level of transparency without being a douche.

In February (don’t worry I’m not doing this month-by-month) I visited Big Sur for the first time. Why in the hell did I not listen to my inner voice for the ten years prior when it begged and pleaded to go to Big Sur? Oh that’s right, I was too busy buying into fear that searches would tank without me if I took a few days off. Glass half full: I made it this year when the time was just right and saved a kid from jumping off the Bixby. Truthfully, he kind of saved me from myself. In a state of shock shortly thereafter, we drank beer in a local tavern and talked about how significant and insignificant our lives really are. It was an amazing, life-changing trip. I cried multiple times coming to grips with just how close I’d come to dying the previous year when I’d had the first stroke, and the fact that my life had been spared. In Big Sur I realized I was suffering from terrible post-stroke anxiety attacks, incapable of getting near the edge of any cliffs (see me literally lying on the edge of one below…and it took me 15 minutes to inch out there) while people skipped around carefree. Even though I’d come a long way, I was still far from better. Big Sur made me face myself.

After that we were hooked and went back again and again. On one trip I met a lady at a waterfall who is battling cancer with all her might. Crazy enough, she lives close to where I lived in Canada. We walked down the mountain together and she, a quiet person, encouraged me to get out and experience all the things while I can. She also got me to run into the falls and scream my head off, which was oddly therapeutic. Meeting her was a marker along my path this year.

I kept working at my anxiety and got better at cliffs, earthed along the coastline with a fever, rode my bike as much as possible and refused to believe my dermatologist who said all my hair was going to fall out. It didn’t (thank you acupuncture, earthing and essential oils #bandwagon). This is the first year in a long time I read several books instead of one or two and man did it feel great to be back. Even though I was scared crapless of not working, I took the summer off and went to Hawaii with some of my favorite people in all the land. It was the best. Upon returning I screwed around doing summer stuff and went back to Big Sur for a week to celebrate my birthday. We stayed at an artist’s retreat, yarn bombed under the stars, I got ripped on 2 margaritas at Nepenthe and walked out with the servers stuffing matches in my pockets. We haven’t laughed that hard in I don’t know when and I can’t wait to go back.

I finally confessed that I’d like to live in Big Sur. I’ve been scared to say it out loud because what if it never happens and I look like a big loser because I never make it happen? Who cares? WHAT IF I DO? I’m throwing it out there. I’d like to live in Big Sur. Universe, do you hear me? Please show the way.

Until September I had no bones to pick. Aside from Mr. Finney trapping me in his apartment talking chakras and figure skating moves and my aunt passing away unexpectedly early in the year, it had been okay. Tough, but okay. Even if I didn’t know what to do about work, I was feeling stronger. And then September.

That stroke in September was a wake-up call. I was about to go back to work when it happened. Instead I focused on getting back on my bike.

So anyway that was a lot of pictures (and I might add more and spared you 20 pictures of random cats), but as I sit staring down the barrel of 2015 I have to be honest: I’m a little freaked out. It’s good to look back and say hey, I made it and there were a lot of high points along the way. I’m not sure what I’ll do about work or how to make a transition, so I guess for 2015 I’d like to learn to go with the flow and let things unfold naturally without overthinking them. If I could do that one thing, a tall order for me, it would be a good ride. So maybe I’ll just stop there and see what happens.

Thanks for reading and encouraging me along the way, it means a lot. Wishing you guys all the best in the New Year!

*haven’t edited so pardon any typos/grammar crazies*