Drop What Is Heavy | 12.31.20
Hours from now, short hours that will be mostly dark, we will close the chapter we called 2020. We will turn the page, we will feel a strange mix of relief, of melancholy, of sorrow, of hope. 2021 is hours away, and my hope for each and every one of us is simple: I wish for us all to wipe away the dust that was left by this insane debacle we called a year, to wipe our slates clean, to drop whatever heavy thing we’re carrying, and begin again. We forget, when surrounded by so much lightlessness, that we still have a choice on how we go forward, on where we aim ourselves. This year, above all years, we have to choose to run straight into the light, however small a speck it may seem, and we must do so with clean slates and empty arms. I believe, with all my silly heart, that if we do this, we will have so much more room to carry so many better things.
I ask you now, fellow light chasers, to wipe your slate clean. Blow the dust away from the chalk marks you suffered to make, and wash it, make it new. Hear me when I say how sorry I am for the losses you suffered this year, hear me when I offer promises of hope on the horizon. There is something new coming, and it’s building slow like a whisper of a spark in the tar of all this night, but it’s coming. Lean forward, drop your burdens, and blow softly on it. Let it blossom, this flower of flame, let it grow, let it illuminate your face, let it warm you.
In a few short hours, hear me say these words to you, and know I speak them only with love: Happy New Year. I love you so.
Wipe away the dust,
clean the slate and start again.
Drop what is heavy.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
Song of the Day
Just a quick thank you for everyone who is subscribing. If you dig what I’m doing, please, share it with anyone and everyone you can think of by clicking the button below.
And if you’re not yet part of our extremely rad exclusive community of Light Chasers, you can sign up for less than a damn latte a month. Let’s hang out, it’s time.