“Things never happen the same way twice, dear one.” Said Aslan.
As the past year closes it’s gilded doors shut i feel a strange comfort and excitement in the sage wisdom of the great Lion. Though, more than a week into January, i alternate between terror and enthusiasm for the coming exploits eleven more months will bring. Within my philosophy, I plan on getting to the grave worn and torn by this life because i used up every resource offered to my being. You see, I’m someone who craves adventure, in all it’s sometimes sadistic and wondrous manifestations. Like those four crazy kids in that wardrobe. Admittedly after reading the Narnia series I spent a lot of time crawling in dark closets, eyes shut and waiting for the cold snow on my fingertips, always in search of new possibility. In my current state, I’m learning that at the opening of every new year in my life/wardrobe I must ask the question; What am i going to be this annum and will it stick? I’ve been so many different people in the last decade, each year bringing a reinvention; teenage ivy league-r in the Canadian tundra, Arabian expatriate, Oxfordian inkling, New York thespian and now a blank slate back where it all began. I’ve returned from whence I came, my roots mixed with coconut berries and palm clippings. So here I am, one foot in the island hearth and the other in hiraeth(the welsh word for a place we long for desperately but know not where it resides). Perfect, right? I hope down to the marrow that my next destination is that for me, or at least a version. I approach it all without a handful of resolutions but with that hope and my manic sense of adventure, as i once again trample into the wardrobe and out into an unknown world.