On 2020

looking back, I feel a weird kind of nostalgia for the year passed. a feeling of missing. of emptiness. maybe because each moment has been lived so deeply (because time was abundant?) which has made letting go seem unreal (and surprisingly hard?) perhaps because we have the tendency of missing what we don’t have, relishing what’s gone. it’s such a universal human flaw, i don’t even know if i can call it a flaw, or an indispensable part of nature, that we constantly look beyond what we have, yearn for what’s not there. we keep looking back. to what we have lost. to what slipped out of our hands when we were too busy to look. even if the certainty for it to come again is there.

or is it not?

will we ever move on completely?

how will we live on if we never do?

or are our lives also destined to slip out of our hands in the same way, while we are too busy looking away?

—

apart from the unfortunate, here’s to (at least hoping for) new and better beginnings, of bringing more gratitude and acceptance and learning to let go. the world has always been cruel. we make our own happiness.