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Hope & Faith

This month’s essay, originally, was going to be a reflection on death and my ever-changing relationship with how I see it. As you can judge by the title, this is a very different essay.

It’s the end of the year, it’s Christmas, and I haven’t been in the best shape myself.

I haven’t written in some time. There is like this cloud that exists over me, where every time I sit down to write I am reminded of the countless other things that demand my attention.

Moving homes, looking for a place to call my own, the pressures of building a life beyond the one I know now and the constant dread of the what if…

What if all my planning meant nothing and I am forever doomed to fail. I’m on the dark side of my twenties.

The part of your life where you’re meant to have it all figured out, if not having already reached that metaphorical summit of sortedness.

To have a thriving career.

A solid foundation.

A mortgage and a double bed to call your own.

Someone to build a home with perhaps?

I’ve been a vagabond for the longest time.

Renting beds in strange places hoping to find a home and sharing them with strangers for warmth is all too fleeting.

Who am I?

Where do I belong?

How much longer?

I fear monotony.

The ordinary. The drudgery of a nine to five, the easy, impassionate kisses in the name of habit, and a 401k as the goal for it all.

I grow impatient with the temporality of the present.

However, my reality, my present is in strong contrast to the more melancholic reflections of the within. The smell of cinnamon and a Christmas tree are a reminder of endings, of celebration for what has been and a time for making promises as we start anew

In writing this essay, I am reminded of gratitude.

These past twelve months have been a real struggle for many of us. They have been for me, and yet they've also been a reminder.

Of the good that has overshadowed the grief of these times.

Of moments of heartfelt joy. While the grey that has followed me for months is at last clearing, through it all I’ve had my constants

Hope & Faith.


The companion.

Through continents, across time, the journey of the self, and always holding a mirror for me.

I remember the first time I felt anything close to hope.

Sitting on my carpeted floor, the sun coming up, a realisation that there was something beyond this shadow of a life that I had grown so familiar with.

Making me believe in the self.

Our journey has never been one of grand revelations or gestures but one built on growth.

One of holding space, speaking the truth, and allowing the other to be the best of who they can be. I’ve been hopeless before.

Those times, perhaps some of the darkest I can think of and yet, here I stand breathing and giving gratitude to my companion and friend.

The presence of Hope, the promise of a better tomorrow.


The symbol of the good in the world.

A reminder of the capacity to do good, the beacon of what it means to be the change in the world.

Someone, I’m only growing more familiar with, and yet despite my inhibitions, I find myself drawn to faith.

Her existence, the very way she’s added to the life of everyone that’s come to know her, is nothing short of breathtaking. Separated by oceans and yet a whisper away, Faith is the light that keeps my fire burning. She is why I write.

My muse,

My guide,

The reason why I continue to believe in the capacity for good within each of us.

If you know faith, then you know she does it all without any want for recognition.

She’s actually quite embarrassed by it.

And yet, I wouldn’t be here if not for Faith.

Reflecting on this past year, for all that’s come to pass, I am filled with gratitude and I pass it on.

To the family, that loves and accepts me for all the ways I am and can be.

To the friends, who add so much joy and warmth into my existence.

To my family here, for opening their home and hearts to a complete stranger and offering nothing but love and warmth.

I give thanks to every stranger that acted in kindness, every grey cloud that showed me the depths of my pain, and,

Hope & Faith,

For guiding me through the greys and for being my constants.

As we step into another year, I give gratitude to you, dear reader.

For supporting my artistic expression and ideas as I continue to grow into a creative, and for being the strongest supporter of not only my work but that of others who have trusted me with their own.

May the remainder of this year be filled with love, warmth, and all that adds to you and your richness.


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