This was the year that no matter how hard our hearts are beating against the crates we store them in, we stayed put.
This was the year I discovered what actually makes me tired.
This was the year I wholly vowed to fully and unconditionally love my body. I will forget again. Then I will learn again.
This was the year I spent more days in Rajasthan than anywhere else.
This was the year I learned that everything is advocacy.
This was the year I tore five of the ribbons that wrap through me because I was running too fast with too many things in my hands.
This was the year I remembered that most things are funny.
This was the year I experienced my favorite type of moment: when nothing has repercussions, when we’re floating in the air with our thoughts swirling circles around the room and every deep pulse of this song shows up in our bodies somewhere, whether with the flick of a head or the lopsided raise of a finger, slightly behind the beat.
This was the year I was 26.
I invite you to consider re-reading this, in reverse, starting from the last line and working upward.
The words above were inspired by this poem by Chinaka Hodge.