For auld lang syne — for old times’ sake, we sing just as each New Year strikes. For old times’ sake, we sing, looking back on people, places and times spent together as we start another chapter. As I get older the more I realize the value of true, tested and old friendships. Ones where not only have you opened yourself up to reveal your own personal history at its beginning, but when you look back you’ll find this history is now a shared one, and has been written with your friends playing their own big parts. My fiancé and I ended and started 2017 with some of my oldest friends, and are now his as well. As I stood there looking up at the fireworks with him to my left and our friends to my right, the music rang true. ( Also knowing that the first day of the year will be spent celebrating a reunion with a high school classmate I haven’t seen in 20 years.) For auld lang syne, and for all …
What of beauty, as snow flakes fall and leave a blanket of white. What of the world as it spins, again, the wonderful snow globe a reminder that it’s setting the stage for renewal — of hopes, of dreams, of life. For as the snow flakes fall and as the world spins and the last year turns to the new, we begin again.
I want to remember. Long after I am no longer capable of forming coherent words, or thoughts that warrant two seconds of time, I want to remember moments when I felt and truly understood — that there really are things more to life that give meaning to mere existence yet at the same time we only have the capacity to comprehend when we let ourselves just be. I want to remember, that there is beauty, and simplicity, and meaning all coexisting in the same plane. I want to remember. Photos taken earlier in the year at Horseshoe Bend, Arizona. There is a little bit of a walk so be ready to do a short hike, especially if you’re visiting in the summer and you may want to bring water with you. The sight you’ll be rewarded with would be worth it, though. We visited in October so the weather was nice and it was not too crowded.
You learn things when you travel. You learn about the place you visit and the people you meet, to open your eyes and your mind and your heart and to be accepting of the whole new world being opened up to you. Apart from this, though, is that you learn to look inward — you find out how impatient you are, or how easily you get tired, or maybe how much energy you’ve got and how much you love cold weather. You learn how blessed you are to have loved ones that balance you. You learn how your very thoughtful and organized fiancé takes care of the details your short attention span maybe-sort-of forgets; and how your kind hearted friend more than makes up for your impatience when your migraine kicks in and you become not so keen on dealing with not-so-kind strangers. You learn things when you travel, and the lessons always continue on to your next destination. Photo taken at Reynisfjara, Black Sand Beach. More from the Iceland trip soon.
It is a great, vast world, and the more we think we know, the more we don’t know. I am thankful and humbled for the journey. It is a great, vast world, and we should only be so blessed if we see it with eyes, and hearts, open; and live it with wonderfully warm, good souls beside ours. Photo: Skogafoss, Iceland. Details of my Iceland girls’ trip coming soon.
Sometimes I get asked what it is I am doing, my age gets thrown at me as if everyone has a roadmap of where I should already be. I do not. I keep walking, and stumbling every now and then — and the in betweens, the flickers of what could be great instants are really what I am here for. I want to strive to have lived so that when I die my epitaph would read: “Here lies Ivy, she lived, she was a little crazy, a lot weird, did some good, loved till she bled, survived by a great loving family, had a few friends but they were real, saw the world and tasted the world.” Photo taken in Mykonos, Greece
Beautiful moments often are in the brief pauses, breaths of silence and waiting-for-something-to-happen breaks. We just have to open our eyes, minds and hearts and be ready to experience them. Tomorrows, nor next-time-this-happens, aren’t promised. And in these pauses, we cherish, we thank, and we love. Nothing else matters, really. Photo taken in Pyrofest, held at Coopers Lake Camp Ground in Pennsylvania