It’s mind-boggling that exactly a year ago I was beginning my adventure in Spain. I spent my 23rd birthday surrounded by strangers, half a world away from my loved ones. I think that was the year my concept of birthdays changed from a “me me me me me” outlook to a “let’s celebrate life” mentality. Coincidentally, the 24th of September is a Catholic feast day, Dia de la Merced, which is one of Barcelona’s huge annual festivals. There was no better way to celebrate my new life and another year lived.
This year, I find myself in yet another new city, overwhelmed by opportunity despite recent setbacks. I feel celebrated, I feel loved, and I am grateful. This weekend was exactly what I needed to get me through the slew of 12-hour days, weekend work hours, and physical challenges that will continue into the next few weeks.
Time seems to be an underlying theme of this post. In the three months since I moved to DC, I have: lived with 12 housemates, broken a bone, started a new job, tried Ethiopian food for the first time, walked out of a bad show at intermission, watched my favorite band live, landed a role in a play, and let strangers sign my cast.
I am thrilled to see where the next year takes me. I feel rich in possibility.