Gia Raquel

Upon the beginning of the new year, I saw the usual euphoria erupting through the beauty of beginnings. I was one who was ready to bid a riddance to this impossibly long year. But upon taking another look, I saw such growth and accomplishment through the little months that dwindled through my fingertips.

I began 2016 in a basement with my closest friends, clinking glasses and ready to take on whatever I was to face. My finger was missing its usual ring, but my smile was full, as was the endless chattering and cackling of the night. I remember watching the sunrise on the beach the morning of that first day. It was that moment I knew it was going to be a good year.

I was right. For the most part, that is. There are countless events that occurred in this year I cannot fathom into words during one sitting. All I can say is that I will miss them. By the end of last year, I wanted so much to leave its entirety. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t stand the idea of saying goodbye to the best year of my life.

It is a new and wonderous year with no guarantees of anything. Isn’t that beautiful? The other day, I sat in a diner with a few friends of mine. While having a discussion about stories, I had an epiphany. In the past year, I’ve developed a habit of talking to strangers. I had gone up to men and women of all ages and spoke to them about anything. More often than not, we shared stories of our lives. I learned the most fascinating things from these people I never could’ve imagined meeting. And I realized, one of the most miraculous parts of life is to share it. So many believe that we are here to pass on our good genetics and continue evolution. My, if that were the case, why bother with all the pain we receive in our lives? I find myself so stuck in my ways, so branded and washed from what I’ve experienced, I forget what my meaning is. I forget I am here to make this a better place. Whether that’s through one person, or two, or a thousand, the number is my decision. But I find we are all here with a choice. We stop or we go. We give in or continue.

Sometimes your choice requires you to be selfish. Sometimes you have to let people go so you can continue. But that’s okay. One’s suffering doesn’t stop another’s. You give your life to others through your voice and your hands, and you get some back. Our souls are like energy mingling through every color we can imagine. They are not created nor destroyed, they continue on, nestling in the creases of a stranger’s palms, in the crook of one’s neck…

2016 was a year of selfish pondering. I do no regret anything I did for the cause of finding myself. I put a pause on the impotent attempts of giving my life to others. Yet it was in those months did I learn how vital it was to do so.

I am here with a choice that is constantly begging to be decided. So this is my decision. I have no expectations for what this year will bring. I have no idea what I will write in the notebooks that I will eventually fill. But I raise a glass to a serendipitous life and the lives I will carry with me.