TwentyEleven

The night seemed so endless; we couldn't make it to midnight but collapsed in a cocktail of jetlag and exertion hours before the bubbly was to be drunk. I awoke at the cusp of dawn, the sky a fiery red over restless waters and thought Happy New Year, then. The days all seem the same, after all.

My skin changes color, my hair. My back straightens in the fresh air and my mind unwinds. I forget what time it is and don't bother to find out. I exhaust myself in the tides, circle the computer but calmly. The sights, the scents, the sounds, permeate my being until I dissolve into them and they flow unhindered through me.

Perhaps, perhaps I will pack my things together and come here. How many years have I already dreamed it? How real the possibility seems when my feet are already planted on this earth. A new year begins, a socially constructed clean slate, to match the blank page of this journey. I think It is possible and consider my options, while my sister pleads with me to not run to the ends of the earth. I suspect this place has been calling me forever.

New Year. New You. New experiences on the horizon. New opportunities to do that which you did not before. We are not too old. We are not too late.

Now is the time for revelling in the life you've let yourself build.

Now is the time, to live.