2018: A Letter to Myself

I hope you run.

2017 has been a really interesting year for me. I find a lot of power in the number seven and its meaning of completion so I always knew this year would be pivotal in moving me towards the next big chapter of my life. Nevertheless, I certainly did not realize how much change and growth this year really had in store for me.

In 2017, I committed to and accepted all the changes that needed to be made in order to fully step into my life’s purpose and my gifts. I decided that my joy, health, and peace of mind take priority. I recognized that what is meant for me will always say yes, but will also require my effort. I learned what it really meant to have faith that this is my preparation period and to believe that God and the universe is working on my behalf. I coped through the tragic passing of three people over the summer and remembered that every moment of breath is a blessing. I explored my creativity and submitted my first poem to a literary magazine which was accepted and published online. I witnessed the lovely unions of my college roommate to her now-husband and then my aunt to her now-wife as not only their niece, but their officiant. I learned that self-care and self-love requires self-discipline. I reflected constantly on what life was telling me about myself, my experiences, who I want to be, and the life I would like to have. I planted seeds with the hope that they will sprout into dreams realized. I watched my family grow with new babies, but also discovered and connected with my two older half-siblings. I forgave my father and freed myself simultaneously. I made it through two instances of my grandmother with Alzheimer’s going missing. I felt the power of a strong support system and believed more in my own abilities because others believed in me. I observed and was inspired by the amazing people around me doing amazing things. I lent an ear to the stories that needed to be heard and lent my voice to those who needed to hear my own stories. I struggled to listen to my body when it needed rest, nutritious food, or an active lifestyle. I rode the ups and downs of my finances, trying to hold several part-time jobs, and the ongoing process of finding a full-time job in a different city. I traveled — by the gracious help of my mother (and some really great deals) — to see places and visit friends near and far. I met and worked with dozens of new students this year that always give me more than I think I give them. I completed two years of national service and gained a deeper understanding of what “community” truly means. I saw local plays, listened to new music, binge-watched several shows, caught some fantastic movies, ate tons of delicious food — including snails, and made an abundance of memories with friends and family. I laughed and expressed gratitude — a lot. I celebrated 25 years of life that I was not always so sure I would see. I stumbled, I fell, and I crawled, but I always got up to walk again.

Through it all, I changed — grew — in new, exciting, and terrifyingly great ways. With change, came a Jeremiah 29:11 kind of hope. A hope with a promise of prosperity. A hope worth more than simply walking towards. In reflecting on 2017 and thinking about 2018, I wrote a letter from me to me, but it can also be for you if you need it. Whatever you are hoping for in 2018, I hope that you run towards it — swiftly and confidently.

Dear Renée,

10. I hope you run.

I hope you break in some new sneakers.

I hope you get some new workout clothes.

I hope you finally make it from the couch to the 5K.

I hope you practice self-care and self-discipline.

I hope you stretch daily.

I hope you have been preparing

because there is something worth running to

or from

but either way, now is the time — not to walk — to run.

9. I hope you run inside.

I hope you run to the deepest parts of your soul.

I hope you continue to find joy and love tucked inside the cracks.

I hope you learn and listen to your body and its needs.

I hope that when your feet hurt, you find strength that lies deeper than your muscles.

I hope you build a life worth escaping to itself so that no matter where you run to, peace is always with you.

8. I hope you run outside.

I hope you run to the farthest parts of the earth.

I hope you jump into your wildest dreams without hesitation.

I hope you trust that the universe will run with you as long as you ask.

I hope you see a beautiful forest grown out of a mustard seed.

I hope you always run back to the people that deeply, authentically, and positively care for you.

I hope your heart reminds you that you are still alive and that your purpose reminds you why.

7. I hope you run fast.

I hope you reach the tops of mountains you never knew existed before.

I hope you remember that sometimes the hardest step is the first one.

I hope you always find the motivation to keep moving forward.

I hope you let go of what you need to because it is easier to run when you are free.

6. I hope you run far.

I hope you remember that even though you can run fast on your own, you need others to run far.

I hope you know that there are spaces being created for you that you cannot even conceive of yet.

I hope you remember that whether you choose to go right or left, you can always choose a new left or right.

I hope you find new people to see and new places to be.

I hope you realize that the farther you go, the farther you have come.

5. I hope you run in the winter.

I hope you keep running even when the days are cold.

I hope you find light when your days are darker than you expected.

I hope you see beauty in the bareness of your tree stripped of old habits.

I hope you hold onto faith when it feels like your winter will never end

because even spring’s flowers must wait for their time to bloom again.

4. I hope you run in the summer.

I hope you find shade when the pressures of the world try to give your skin a sunburn.

I hope you remember that although you still need sun lotion, your melanin is pre-built with resilience.

I hope you discover more seashells about who you are and what you love.

I hope you laugh with so much light that the sun gets jealous.

I hope you stand centered in your beliefs and find refuge in them.

I hope you realize that when it is difficult to run in the water, you see the opportunity to swim.

3. I hope you run better.

I hope you find a lesson in every trip or fall.

I hope you seek wisdom in every person you encounter.

I hope you let your voice take up space and time.

I hope you share gratitude for both the ups and the downs.

I hope you reflect and grow in every moment you are blessed with.

I hope you try again, try differently, and try better.

2. I hope you rest.

1. and when all is said and done,

I hope you get back up and keep running.

Happy New Year, Renée! ✨

Now seriously, go run.

♥️