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I watched many of you from near and far venture out to take risks this year. I watched you love, speak up, fight, say hellos and goodbyes, and embrace your life.
Scary shit lay inside the walls of 2016 – the kinda scary shit that changes us, if you let it and don’t just bury it away because of the uncomfortable ways it made us feel. You awed me often with the ways you all faced these uncomfortable moments.
You picked up pens, self published, planted seeds, built homes, fed chickens, travelled, held hands, cried, laughed and probably drank too much (ok that was me, but I blame Marnie and Tami for that). But you pushed on, despite all the self doubt, and external pressures that told you, you were too young, or too old, or not wealthy enough, or not fast enough or too far away, or unable to pull it off… some of us are still learning to push through this, and that’s ok too.
So to those of you who took risks to write your own stories, both metaphorically and literally, this past year, you inspire me. And I am grateful for the ways you have taught me to take risks to live.
Happy New Year everyone.