Wow.
I've thought about this final blog post dozens of times, and still, it's difficult to even imagine finding the right words. My hands are shaky on the keyboard, my eyes already welling up. What to say in the final blog post, the long-awaited number 365?
First of all, it's just difficult to comprehend. I've put fingers to keyboard every single day for the past year, and even looking back, it seems an unfathomable undertaking. Explaining it to people has always been a funny task, especially when I myself can hardly believe it. It's just... a lot to take in.
But then again, so is my life.
As I write this, I can feel the blazing South Indian sun on my neck, causing sweat to drip from places I didn't even know I could sweat from. I can hear the Bangalore traffic as I walk to school, smell the cow flicking its tail as I step around it, and taste the sweet, creamy coffee from the basement cafeteria conveniently located around the corner from our Bollywood dance class. I wanted to remember all of these experiences forever, the big and the seemingly mundane, and so the blog was born. India is just so much, and I didn't want to miss any of it.
I knew after finishing my month-long challenge that I had to continue the blog at least for the rest of my travels. Though I'll admit it felt awfully obligatory at times, it also gave me the chance (or, in a way, forced me) to sit down and reflect not just on the things I'd seen or the people I'd met, but on how they impacted me as well. Through this the blog became a tool which helped me connect with the people and the country around me, and also with myself. During one of the most joyous, confusing, demanding, incomprehensible, challenging, and beautiful parts of my life, this blog was there to help me work everything out and document all of those feelings forever. I feel this overwhelming need to "thank the blog", but I guess really what that means is I just need to be vulnerable and compassionate enough to thank myself.
Living in India was overwhelming, and even though Bangalore in itself is enough to overstimulate just about anyone, I think the emotional work I undertook while there was eventually the straw that broke the camel's back. By the end of my time there, the physical, mental, and emotional toll the semester had on me left me feeling pretty ready to go. This isn't to say it was bad at all— most everything I experienced was overwhelmingly positive, but even living with such extreme happy and excited emotions with that much frequency can be taxing in its own ways. All of this would have been infinitely more difficult to process without an outlet like the blog, so again, I'm so incredibly grateful for this. And, in the midst of the exploration and reflection and documentation I did on the blog, I found something else that has changed my life since starting this— my passion for writing.
I wrote my first presidential speech when I was eight, wrote a book when I was seven, and filled notebooks with poetry and prose and stories throughout the entirety of my childhood. Unwilling to sacrifice either of my dream careers, I vowed to become an astronaut who was also an author while in space. My daydreams were filled with zero-gravity writing sessions and spacesuit author photos. But, as I got older, this dream to spend my days writing eventually felt as distant as the moon. It wasn't even something I seriously considered as something to spend my life doing.
Only a couple weeks into the blog, I started to feel that magic with writing again. I could turn words into feelings and paint pictures for my friends and family back home, and the words flowed like they hadn't in years. Though I do enjoy academic writing, it's just not the same, and the opportunity to do anything other than that was not just refreshing, it was exhilarating. From Ireland to Germany, Chicago to Osage, Bangalore to Sioux City, I found excitement in my writing, the chance to ground myself and explore the world around me, even when it kept changing faster and faster.
Of course, spending time writing every single day for a year has strengthened my writing abilities (at least I'd like to think so), and my confidence has grown tenfold. I used to be terrified of releasing my writing into the world. Now? We're 365 blog posts in. It's all out there.
Spending this year of my life writing has showed me that I want to spend every year after writing too. I'm not sure how this will manifest, but I know it's something integral to my happiness and wellbeing, and I want to keep doing it. I may not have everything figured out, but knowing this is at least a start. It's something I'm passionate about— I always have been, even if I didn't realize it, and I think I always will be.
I'm different from when I started the blog. In the last 365 days, I became a vegetarian, I shaved my head, I cried a lot, I laughed a lot, and I started saying no. I didn't learn how to tie my own saree, but I did learn some epic Bollywood dance moves.
I'm also very much the same as when I started the blog. I still have a passion for traveling, I still love dancing salsa, and I'm still surrounded by the coolest people (even if my family and friends have expanded a bit). I still have trouble being vulnerable, but I'm working on it. I still sing very loudly in public.
At the end of the day, or I guess more appropriately, at the end of the year, this is what I've found. I am the same but different, I am nervous but excited, I am nostalgic but proud.
This blog has been a testament to my growth, and as Mariel said, what a gift to give myself both now and for the future. The documentation of this year is invaluable, entirely irreplaceable.
Looking forward, I don't know what is to come, but I'm excited to find out. If I've learned anything in the past year, it's that trusting in the process is the best preparation for something amazing. The experiences I spent a year blogging about are proof of this.
Finally, I'm sad to leave the blog behind, but boy, I'm proud. I'm Not in Kansas (or Iowa) Anymore! has become a part of me in the last 365 days, and leaving that part of me behind is undeniably bittersweet. Still, I must say that what I've done is pretty epic, and I'm proud of myself.
I feel like there should be more to say, but if you've stuck with me for the past year, you'll know I've pretty much already said it all. I've bared my soul, perhaps to an empty room, but it felt like a leap of faith regardless. Now it's time to land, pick a new direction, and leap again.
Like I said yesterday, I'm eternally grateful to my family and friends who showed me so much love and support for such a crazy idea. I'd be lost without all of you. I also want to extend one final statement of love to myself, because honestly, I did something incredible, and I'm grateful to myself for sticking it out. This blog has been and will continue to be a gift, and even though it didn't feel like self-kindness at times, it most certainly was. The love I feel for myself and others at this ending is a reminder of how lucky I truly am, and how impactful everyone has been in this past year of my life.
And now, as the sun finally sets on my year of blogging, it rises again on my next adventure. I feel grateful, I feel proud, I feel loved. We did it.
And hey, I think I finally figured out what a blog post is supposed to be.
