I don’t like writing year-end posts full of sentimental learnings and sweet nothings. Not that there is anything wrong with them. I just think that because of the emotion associated with them — the emotion of the end of a year and the beginning of a new one — they are heightened and usually serve little purpose during the next year. Very few people might go back to the previous year’s lessons during the new one. This has absolutely nothing to do with anyone’s incapabilities, but that’s just how the tide of time is. So, I don’t indulge in them. Although, I have done so in the past. I am a closet romantic, after all. There is a certain kind of joy associated with them. It’s just not for me, anymore. I have come to believe that everything we know will be proved time and again to be wrong and we will have to unlearn and learn everything we know over and over again.
Over the last two years, I have come to a deep appreciation for routine, for the days on which there is nothing to write home about, for the grist and the mill. I think all the magic in life actually happens with what we do on these unchanging days that we live in and out. I’ve tried on many occasions this year to write an essay, unoriginally titled, ‘In Praise of Routine‘. However, all my attempts have failed, and I am thankful for that. I would rather hide in agonising self-doubt than publish a cliched essay about taking one step at a time because more often than not that’s all that matters. I love having time off during the end of the year, but most often I look forward to the second week of a new year because that’s when shit gets real. All the fluff and excitement has died down and you realise, it is still your same old life and it’s all up to you now.
For those who are new to this blog, this is not a year-end post. This is a blogoversary post. One that I have tried to write every other year. This year it is really special because it’s the 10th year of this blog. Last night when I counted how many years had gone by, I had to check again. It astounds my brain that I have had this blog for a decade. You have no idea how much. There are so many stories in here, so much about my life that is in hiding and in plain sight. So many writing influences, books and movies and poetry references. So many people here who have found their way into my life and into this blog, and vice versa. And then, there are those people who have saved this blog when it needed saving. That’s why amarllyis exists and it has done so for ten years now.
Remember the previous rant post in which I wrote about this elongated conversation I had? During that conversation, we also discussed how people don’t live in silos. How we coexist and our lives are made richer or poorer by those around us. I stand by that. This blog was started with the help of a school friend who showed me how to use Blogspot, migrated to WordPress with the help of another school friend, turned into a Website by a college friend. amarllyis has remained here because of all of you who read and text me/DM me/email me about whatever I have written. I have not held this place up on my own. I am not even naive to think I could have.
None of these things has happened during a flight of fancy, it has happened on the days that went unflagged, on unremarkable hours. And that’s what I mean when I say we don’t live this life in a vacuum, nor do we live it on just the highs. We are not islands. We are what we do on the ordinary days. We are the oceans’ waves making up the wide expansive breadth of the earth. We idle, we sway, we crash, we rise. Little by little. One at a time. And we are all in this together.
Thank you. It has meant the world.
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