Reflection.
As I write this, I enjoy the juices of a sweet Coca-Cola from a glass bottle imported from Mexico and eat the pastries my uncle brought his recent trip to Guadalajara. A bottle of tequila sits next to my laptop, while the rims of the shot glasses shimmer with the light emitted from the screen. They tease me, but it is easy to ignore them. After all, it is a treat for the transition into the New Year and a way to celebrate the clocks passing beyond the P.M. I notice that these objects of celebration share a similar place of origin; an accidental choice. I’m notoriously anti-ethnocentrism, and yet I see that this all has been chosen with discrimination. What prompted me to choose the bitter agave tequila over the weaker potato-based vodka? Or the glass-bottled Coca-Cola over a simple aluminum canned one?
Custom, I suppose. Almost every year, New Years was a time of celebration in that faraway place. I’d look up and notice how the brightness of the stars would contrast with the manifested dark matter of the universe. The moon would be my guide in the night, its fullness a representation of my happiness and fulfillment. My friend would return me to reality and prompt a toast by clinking his Sol bottle with mine. I’d wear a smile as easily as I wear the hair on my head. Life was wonderful.
But what am I saying? Life is wonderful.
Fast-forward to the present. Although the celebration is comparatively underwhelming, I still enjoy where I am in life. This past year has taught me to be more optimistic. It has opened my eyes to the fact that the world is incredibly large and the amount of personalities and people is vast. Life is not fair, but that can work with me or against me. Life can change in a day, an hour, a minute, and even a second. There are those conversations that seem to change everything, that cross distances and bring people closer. It’s enjoying those unique “me too” moments and using them as a stepping stone to something much greater. As much as people hold predisposed definitions to certain concepts (e.g. home, love, friendship, trust, etc.), those definitions are always subject to change. For instance, if home is where the heart is, then my heart will define my home, even if I didn’t grow up in it. If family is the people we are closest to, then my family will be the people I’m closest to, even if they aren’t related to me by blood. Having anticipatory thoughts about the future is sometimes futile, but that’s fine. The past is to learn, but the future is to adventure. And as scary at it seems, being scared is the last thing we should feel about the future. Experiencing change made me believe in change more than ever.
Life is not just wonderful, but also exciting. It has things to look forward to, and I suppose it’s what makes living in the present difficult. Personally, if I’ve had trouble living in the present, it’s because the future has provided solace at times. So has the past, but it’s a momentary solace that brings pain with it. I’ve learned to let go of the past through my transition. It even leaves me wondering at times how I ever subjected myself through such a life at all.
There’s a lot I’ve learned this year, and it just makes me look forward to this upcoming year.
As I hold this glass, I raise it and say: “here’s to a great year!”
The future is a dream, a faraway landscape, and it looks wonderful from this angle.
