Endings and Beginnings
highlights, gratitudes and reflections on this journey.
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I wrote this between December 30th and December 31st 2022, but you won’t be reading it until sometime in the new year. I thought about pressuring myself to get this out before the new year began, but it feels more honest to share this when it’s done, vs. forcing it to keep up with the ever-flowing content wheel at the end of the year. I’m continuing to honour my process in 2023.
Happy New Year everyone.
It’s the cusp of the new year. That sweet limbo between Christmas and New Years that feels both too long and too short all at once.
There is so much I want to say here, and frankly, I can’t write fast enough to get it out of my head. So I’ll just say this for now: thank you for being here. I started this newsletter in January of 2021. Since then it’s been two years of writing my thoughts, reflections and wonderings that have inspired and pushed me into a vulnerable space I thought I might never return to.
One thing you might not know about me is that writing has been a sort of home to me for many years. Writing was my escape and a space where anything was possible. It was a secret space of endless opportunity, one that for a while, only I knew and could experience.
There have been many eras of my writing: I wrote short stories and poems in my tween and teen years, emotion and naiveté pouring out of me like water. In the good old days of Tumblr, I wrote fan fiction and hundreds of personal essays, a time capsule of the chaotic experience of my early twenties. Now, my writing is going through yet another epoch, one I haven’t quite defined yet, but also unlike anything I’ve ever written.
Truthfully, everything I’ve ever written before 2020 has either been behind a pseudonym or never published — I have hard drives full of word documents and memories that no eyes have seen.
So this newsletter, this Substack, and in some ways the writing I share on Instagram has been a true exercise in vulnerability for me. A practice of putting myself out there, a personal reminder that there is value in opening up, trying new things, and probably the hardest part: not worrying about whether anyone actually likes it.
It’s not easy these days to not worry about the content mill. I’m ashamed at times to admit that my automatic spiral is part of the reason why most of the things I write are never shared. Is what I have to say valuable? What if someone I know reads this? Will anyone even like this? Will anyone even like me? Why would anyone even read this?
And yet— despite my mind’s best efforts at derailing me, here we are.
Whether this is your first time reading this, or if you’ve been around since I started, thank you. Thank you for being present with me in this practice. Thank you for traversing through the lessons I’ve learned and the wisdom I’ve collected along the way. Thank you for taking the time to be here, even if just for a moment. It means a lot to me.
Gratitude is a funny thing. It can be both powerful, and sometimes performative. It’s possible to be seen but not felt. It is both an action and an experience. I can’t control how it feels for others, but I can be intentional in how I share it and engage with it for myself. That being said, I am deeply grateful for this space. I’m grateful for the opportunity to be in my process here and evolve in ways I never imagined. This is truly just the beginning.
I’m not a big “New Year’s” person, but I do love using the transition of time to mark moments of reflection, set intentions and shift energies toward what truly matters to me at the moment. Together, through this entire journey of feeling and healing, and being and growing here, you (the reader) and I have explored many things. Here are a few of my highlights :
the risks of self-love: vulnerability and grief
developing self-trust: harder than it seems
we are not machines: how nature can inspire us toward wholeness
shifting negative mindsets: when your own mind is the enemy
how to let go and move on: forgiveness is for you
prompts for moments of reflection rather than reactivity
a love letter to the overwhelmed
the journey inward: the art of loving yourself
I would be remiss to not mention that although this writing journey here has been life-changing, 2022 brought major transformations to my life. I was pregnant and had my first baby, I lost my last living grandparent, I was diagnosed (for the 2nd time) with ADHD and started taking meds (again and this time the right ones), I shed limiting beliefs about what it means to be successful, I grew my business, I allowed myself to be a beginner, I was vulnerable, I was open. I became the version of myself that I truly can’t wait to see grow.
I’ve changed in so many ways this year, and so although 2022 is ending, many things are just beginning. My goal here is to allow this process to evolve. I’m not sure yet exactly what that will look like, but I’m hoping we can walk this journey together.
"On really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion" - Speed Levitch.
What can you expect from this space? Honestly, I’m not sure yet. More of the same, and also new and different things. I’m opening myself in 2023 to taking on new ideas, trying out more newness, and moving forward into growth, transformation and opportunity. Stay tuned.
Some of the best advice I’ve gotten this year has centered around being in the moment and embracing the imperfections of the now. I’m always working on it, and progress isn’t perfect.
Wishing you all love, light and good warm energy as we begin this new year. If you’re also in the process of growing/learning/processing/being/inviting/exploring/feeling, I invite you to join me on this journey. Hopefully, we learn something together and explore it here in earnest. I’m looking forward to the future and keeping hope alive for more beautiful moments of reflection, honesty and feeling. May we see ourselves grow in the tender joy of feeling valued and vulnerable.
Talk to you soon,
—Meg
So much I could say as to how your writing has supported me over the hardest seasons of my 4th decade - but I don’t think it would fully capture it. Instead - let me encourage you to keep sharing in the nuanced way that you do, in your voice, with your wise + vulnerable insight, just as you have been....it is exactly what is needed right now :)
Hi Meg! I’m most definitely also in the process of growing, learning, processing, being, inviting, exploring, and feeling. I have “followed” you for some time over on IG and always appreciate your thoughtful insights, honesty and wisdom. I can relate to so much of what you shared today and it strengthens my resolve to embody the art of the practice - the process - in increasing measure. I wish it was easier but I’m grateful for others who walk this path too. May 2023 be a beautiful year for us all.