End of the Beginning of the Year
January turned quickly into February, and accelerated into March. Resolutions have become habit, or absent entirely - reinforcing 18 year-old-me’s dislike of them. The not-drinking has stuck, journaling has dwindled, and learning french est tres difficle. But the intentions have persisted. Even if less formal than writing regularly, I’ve found more moments to be mindful (en anglais et francais) so let’s dabble with them here.
Prospective students came for their interviews, brimming with passion and sparkling CVs. Their eloquent answers forced reflection on where my sparkle has gone. When applying for Medicine, I promised I’d learnt to focus my energies. It feels like I’ve let that focus dilate. While I juggle elected roles, committee positions, paid work, and training with the intensity of med school I can see myself spread too thinly. I’ve sent emails late, relied on friends too heavily, and eroded my empathy. Then there’s more subtle signs - hectic thoughts, struggling to listen to conversations and music, and memories feeling less vivid. The brio that brought me to Swansea has blurred into mess of excitement and fatigue.
But counter to this chaos, friends have been a haven of joy. From all the way across town, to all the way across countries, swapping must-do’s for moments of connection with them has made winter feel warm. While chatting in saunas, loitering beside waterfalls, and laughing together, it’s easy to reflect on how friendships have grown while we’ve each blossomed in our own environments.
But in moments of solitude, emotions have fluttered all over the place. I can be so happy that my heart could burst, leaving me drowning in joy. Or, momentarily, with an ocean of calmness, with deep breaths and a tired mind. Then it evaporates, into excitement and awe, for the future, and the now, and constantly trying adore the two. But sometimes it simmers into frustration and annoyance and sadness. Sometimes at small things, like folks walking in the bike lane or cold winds making my eyes water. Sometimes at big things, like growing wars and widening inequalities. But unlike last year, there has been space to see these feelings unfurl, and make effort to understand them before they overwhelm.
But sunshine has come. March has begun. The beginning of the year has come to an end. With days being longer, it’s a little easier to find optimism - the sunshine baking a premonition of joy into each day. Returning to lectures and work, with deadlines looming, feels less daunting with a heart full of friends and without a battle against seasonal gloom. Daffodils, crocuses, snowdrops and song birds all mark Spring, making the weight of the year to come feel lighter.
