Just over twenty years of life led up to that moment.
My brother hurt me so I would be strong. My cousin was there, teaching me what unconditional love really means so I could get through it. My teachers pushed me so I would ask questions, and eventually go to college. My parents gave me logic but let me crave emotion so I would search for it in Boston. A boyfriend was there to teach me how to love and how to start growing up. We ended our relationship so I would search for meaning in other parts of my life, and become a yoga teacher. I did my teacher training to learn to let go of fear and I swam in the ocean for the first time. I choose the co-op in Bolivia because, for the first time, I knew I was strong, and I feared nothing.
I got off the train in the dark, dragging a suitcase as we started to run across the dusty plains. I lifted my head to take a breath and I paused. All of the stars I had ever seen did not add up to what I saw in the sky just then. I knew that was what my entire life until that point had been for: getting me to that place, those few seconds before continuing our shuffle-sprint through middle-of-nowhere-Bolivia to hopefully hitchhike our way back to the train station we had missed. I laughed and thought I was going to cry. Those seconds were the reason why I existed for twenty years. Just to see the sky, right at that moment. My world expanded exponentially that night just because I happened to look up.
Here I am almost one year later, fresh from Miami, planning my first expedition to India, and searching for a job in NYC; none of which I may have the courage to do if it weren’t for the stars in Bolivia, telling me that there is so much more out there. 20 was an amazing year but I have no doubt that 21 has its own surprises in store. Here’s to hoping each year will continue to be better than the last.