Looking back on 2020

This year I've noticed that changing my thoughts - gradually - is possible. It would be nice to articulate my desire for a calmer mental state to a new psychologist, providing I feel safe and secure enough to do so. 

In the absence of the usual influx of travel-related stimuli, I turned inwards, drawing upon past emotional victories and am attempting to fuse new insights together. It's okay, Epiphanie!, I said. You've got this. 

Waleed Aly captured my imagination in the middle of the year with the concept of Australians enriching their interiority. In my dreams I travelled everywhere from Mongolia to the Mediterranean, and in waking hours I opened myself up to books I hadn't dared to before, like absurdist metafiction. 

There may have been some overeating, pandemic news bingeing, and dark times - these things are part of the life experience and I seek to accept them as they arise. 

I can say, however, that I didn't get too caught up in the narrative that 2020 was the year from hell. Instead I counted my blessings, snuggling into my comfortable furniture, focusing on the sensual delights of my apartment, immediate neighbourhood, and the cluster of hubs I frequented in the east(ern suburbs). In some ways, I was physically more comfortable than I would have been as a passenger on an international flight, or a newly arrived traveller attempting to shake off jetlag while still maintaining an active schedule. The existential angst of leaving a foreign country while longing to stay (a mainstay of the past globetrotting Epiphanie) was altogether avoided. 

Knowing that the longevity of my life was not a certainty made strolls around the neighbourhood saturated with appreciation. Yesterday I knelt down to remove a Snickers bar wrapper deeply pressed into the sculpted hedge gracing my street, and threw it away in the nearest bin. I enjoyed the knowledge that I had beautified my little corner of the world. And, making my way across a street or two, I could even clean my hands for free with the sanitiser machine set up by a thriving local eatery. Little things can instill a sense of purpose, creativity, pleasure. The tactile experience of dirtying my fingers for a good cause, and cleansing them again through the abundance of resources a stone's throw from where I live. Standing in proximity to the prosperous business, I felt grateful that my mini commercial hub was a lucrative place to set up shop. I also felt grateful that the sidewalk I began to walk down was indeed 'walkable', to use urbanist Richard Florida's terminology. 

I hope you have a peaceful end of year celebration, whatever that looks like for you.