What if 2016 is greater than any Adele love song? The kind of love song you want to listen to on repeat with the high hope that enough replays will earn you front row seats to her performance.
This year: Sing all the words. Start the kitchen dance party. Whatever you are hoping for in someone else-- get out there and figure out how to do it yourself. Define your own brave. Write out your plans. Set goals. Or write nothing at all. Just don’t hold back.
You can't really be sure how life is going to work. You can’t read the last page and then decide if it is worth the meat in the middle. You draw breaths in and out. You crawl away from the sheets too early in the morning. You send emails. You fall in love. You put gas in your car. You learn names. You do plenty of things you don’t want to do. You dance. You sometimes overstay your welcome and drink too much tequila. You eat tacos. Too much queso. You wonder if you can survive on chips and salsa alone for the rest of your life. You call home. You slam doors. You let people in.
Let him in-- let him fix your car and call you beautiful. Take the long way home. Say too much. Be sappy and too romantic. Resolve some things like a Hallmark movie and leave other things unresolved like every word of a Shakespearean sonnet. Forgive, forgive, forgive.
This year: Send the text. Say the prayers. Take off your shoes to actually feel the sand. Talk to the Uber driver. Eat all the tacos. Splurge on the shoes. Leave love letters on car windshields. Write the damn book. Find slivers of this earth that feel holy and safe to you. Do every little thing fear has tried to take from you.
Lean in. Declare freedom. Do it with a vengeance.