The moment you think you know everything is the moment you stop living; the moment you stop learning is that moment you’ve stopped being.

It’s a world of infinite possibilities and endless chances for doing, creating, experiencing, gaining, giving, loving. It took me a while to cease being closed up to these very possibilities — there’s fear and comfort and insecurities — that are all too familiar companions, too attractive to abandon for the unknown. Even then, their call is louder sometimes, but I try. For what is the alternative, but to stay safe, unharmed but not living.

The past year was certainly a year full of such moments, days presented with the choice of going for it, or staying cocooned in the safety of the not-for-mes, not-right-nows, and maybe-next-times. I could only wish this year would be this and much more, and the ones after, ever more open to chances to say yes. To the moment, that which may not come again; to today, our now, the only one we’re certain of; to the experience, to love, to life.

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Kayaking photo credit to my friend Pnut. 

While I was writing, Willamette Stone’s “Today” came up on shuffle. The lyrics are relevant to this post, so I included the link below if you’d like to listen.