An End of The Year Accord

These are the things I have learned in these past twelve months that have lingered on the edge of words. Things perhaps you know (I did not), or have already learned (I had not), and deserve a moment of their own. 

I have learned that you cannot fathom the heights you are capable of climbing until you have reached -- passed, even -- many would-be summits. They always look higher (and easier) from below. 

I have learned that the growth we're after will likely require very significant pruning. You have to make the space, or the thicket will be gnarly.

I have learned that you may not see burnout for what it is until you are sweeping up the ashes. You may not see the heart's longed-for pivot, or the mind's churning for change as useful, until long past when you could have put it all to use. They will both still be useful, even then.

I have learned that grief has no timeline, whether it was sudden or expected, and that it has no opposite state. You can be grieving and joyful, grieving and despairing, grieving and thriving, all at once.