For Every End, A Beginning

I am writing this on a night when the world is sweeping away the remnants of 2015. Now is a time of ending more than anything else, and December 31st brings with it reflection on all that we've created and all that we are leaving behind. 2015 has been a whirlwind: for Six Impossible Things, and for me, and for the world. It feels as if we are drawing to a close another chapter in our collective story. But also, we are leaning across the cusp of a beginning. The sort that is teetering on uncertain legs, looking to us for guidance, waiting to see what we will make of it as it peeks around the corner and waits to be welcomed. I have always found it such a curiously beautiful thing that we human beings are mad and lovely enough to celebrate what is, essentially, just another day on our calendar - not because of any external reason, as so many other holidays are, but simply because the day is worth celebrating on its own merit. The idea that living itself is a story. That is what I want to bring into 2016, even as an old chapter folds its pages.

And I would like to celebrate this: all of the untied shoelaces, the missed opportunities, the midnight coffee excursions of 2015. All of the unanswered phone calls. All of the days spent mustering the strength to get out of bed. I would like to celebrate all of the time we spent falling in love as the world spun obliviously, all of the time we spent breaking our own hearts as the thunder sung our battle anthems.

Let us celebrate all of the photographs we took, the hands we held, the laughter we shared, the wanderlust we never quite managed to cure. And the sadness and anxiety - they had their places here too, if only amongst the tapestry of brightness. Today we should celebrate the perhaps and the never and the always and the please stay. All of the parties missed. All of the nights spent chatting with the stars. All of the moments we thought we couldn't take one more step. And how we did anyway. And how we made it here, to the end. To the beginning.

To those of us with monsters still lurking behind our backs: I hope 2016 is a better year for us.

And to those who have already found the sun: I hope this is the most luminous year yet.

I love you all. Happy New Year, my darlings.