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ONE YEAR LATER

April 14, 2015 Marianna Jamadi

Forgive me for not posting as regularly as I would like. I promise I will be better at it. Life is at full throttle. 

It's been just over one year since I boarded a plane in Ho Chi Minh headed to LA, ending the very journey that started Nomadic Habit. In many ways it feels like light years away, yet I can remember it so vividly. Time has a way of playing tricks on us.

The last year has been a roller coaster. Thrilling, terrifying, full of highs and lows, curves and dips at every turn forcing me to catch my breath and hold my stomach.

I have hurled myself into the universe, sometimes with reckless abandon, which has had me flying and falling with record speed. I have caught air and had the wind knocked out of me, all to say that even in times when feeling in a state of hypoxia, I am without regret.

I have been with full heart and empty heart, but always, always with heart. Bruised surely, but purple like a plump plum, I am ripe for the picking. Life is juicy.

This year I have faced fear, welcomed fear, and conquered it in ways that have had my guts growing guts. I have also faced failure many times over. Whether it comes to love or creativity or professional endeavors, I have failed more times than I can count. Each misstep, growing pains causing me to realign, reconfigure, and reevaluate who it is I want to be as a creative, friend, daughter, partner, etc. I am in constant recalibration and I can't think of living any other way.

I've had a wildly unpredictable year.  A year that girl on the plane from Ho Chi Minh couldn't even dream up.

And here I am, 365+ days later, 365+ days stronger.

I've moved through the past year still very much still digesting a year abroad. Through my travels both past and present, I realize I am not above anyone. Everyone has a story, a struggle, and pain regardless of who you are or where you come from, is pain. To counter that, I've realized that happiness need not a language. Joy, across cultures is recognizable, palpable, and easily shared when language is not.

The world can be ugly and it can be beautiful and I itch for the range. Decay, life, everything in between.

I will never be the same person (thank god) because of that trip. I have learned that I love being uncomfortable but love a good bed. I will dip in Arctic waters but crave a piping hot shower. I love street food until I spend a week on the toilet. I can squat like a pro, and wet wipes double as a "shower." I can be up for anything, down for anything, and can get down to anything.

Through it all, I keep barreling through the world chasing down feelings. Good, bad, I want it all. The minute I stop feeling is the moment I stop being.

← NOMAD feature // BRANDEN PEAKVSCO // A STORY OF EVOLUTION →

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