Every year when filing my taxes, I am forced to establish what they call "physical presence" by proving all my travel overseas. It is one of the more pleasurable aspects of the tax filing process, if indeed there is such a thing. Looking back through e-ticket confirmations, I'm reminded of a progression of events, the full depth of a year, that is easy enough to forget. Now in February it already feels a very long time ago.
In going through this process recently, I was reminded of a lovely little island in Malaysia, for instance, which led to snowy views of Pikes Peak. An absurd bachelor party in Toronto came to mind as well, alongside familiar walks on New York City streets. I remembered wandering a few campuses in Washington D.C., before settling in for lively happy hours. And I can still feel the weight of gut wrenching decisions, tearful calls, and painful nights awake alone with jet leg, dictating what would or what wouldn't come next when all the buzz came to an end.
My best friend got married in Italy just a few months later, and I am reminded of watching love swarm in a garden on a perfect day in June. We drank wine, smoked cigars, and listened to kind words, relishing moments that could only ever end too soon. It is a great honor to be invited to witness the most intimate and sentimental moments of life, and I was honored to be there, as the groom put on his suit and tied his shoes, as he drank a last beer in the piazza prior to his vows, as he said those vows that sent an entire garden to tears, and the many moments of quiet in between.
The sunsets, there were more than a few, a few last ones by the sea in Colombo, a glorious one over the hills around Petra, and all those many days after work where it lights up the desert sky above Abu Dhabi. And the beers, there were many of those too, craft beer in West Jerusalem, hoppy beer at a strange factory in Austria, Lion Beer by the water in Sri Lanka, or Shiner Beer in Austin that perfectly complements some spicy Tex Mex.
I remember Donald Trump getting elected President one morning under the covers later on in the year, and felt sad, at people's willingness to be aroused by fear and by hate. I don't know why people choose these things, in their own lives, or in their elections, but I am reminded by all the ancient ruins of this last year, that empires rise and fall. Indeed, wandering the Forum in Rome on a quiet morning, or stumbling across some marble columns in the middle of Beirut, force these thoughts upon you. I wonder if 100 years from now people will look back at this moment, and see some significance in it all.
I welcomed 2016 at the Intercontinental Hotel in Austin with a bedazzling kiss and an intoxicating night. I wandered my old city and drove across my old state, before bidding it farewell again. A year later I waved 2016 goodbye in the middle of the Alps, looking up at snowy mountain peaks lit by fireworks, staying warm but enjoying the cold, held by a familiar hand.
While there is plenty to be uncertain about, things that often spoil my mood or leave me wide awake in the night, I cannot help but feel gratitude in these tallies, for the simplest of things: to see the world in its many shades, to love, and to be free.
In going through this process recently, I was reminded of a lovely little island in Malaysia, for instance, which led to snowy views of Pikes Peak. An absurd bachelor party in Toronto came to mind as well, alongside familiar walks on New York City streets. I remembered wandering a few campuses in Washington D.C., before settling in for lively happy hours. And I can still feel the weight of gut wrenching decisions, tearful calls, and painful nights awake alone with jet leg, dictating what would or what wouldn't come next when all the buzz came to an end.
My best friend got married in Italy just a few months later, and I am reminded of watching love swarm in a garden on a perfect day in June. We drank wine, smoked cigars, and listened to kind words, relishing moments that could only ever end too soon. It is a great honor to be invited to witness the most intimate and sentimental moments of life, and I was honored to be there, as the groom put on his suit and tied his shoes, as he drank a last beer in the piazza prior to his vows, as he said those vows that sent an entire garden to tears, and the many moments of quiet in between.
The sunsets, there were more than a few, a few last ones by the sea in Colombo, a glorious one over the hills around Petra, and all those many days after work where it lights up the desert sky above Abu Dhabi. And the beers, there were many of those too, craft beer in West Jerusalem, hoppy beer at a strange factory in Austria, Lion Beer by the water in Sri Lanka, or Shiner Beer in Austin that perfectly complements some spicy Tex Mex.
I remember Donald Trump getting elected President one morning under the covers later on in the year, and felt sad, at people's willingness to be aroused by fear and by hate. I don't know why people choose these things, in their own lives, or in their elections, but I am reminded by all the ancient ruins of this last year, that empires rise and fall. Indeed, wandering the Forum in Rome on a quiet morning, or stumbling across some marble columns in the middle of Beirut, force these thoughts upon you. I wonder if 100 years from now people will look back at this moment, and see some significance in it all.
I welcomed 2016 at the Intercontinental Hotel in Austin with a bedazzling kiss and an intoxicating night. I wandered my old city and drove across my old state, before bidding it farewell again. A year later I waved 2016 goodbye in the middle of the Alps, looking up at snowy mountain peaks lit by fireworks, staying warm but enjoying the cold, held by a familiar hand.
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