"I am out with lanterns looking for myself."

I’ll begin the New Year with this ever-so luminous quote from Emily Dickinson—one that encapsulates my year and my very soul.

As a sensitive person, I’m constantly foraging for meaningful quotes to help me cope with this journey of life. I’ve always been an avid journal keeper. Alongside my basic journal, I have an “uplifting journal” where I keep all my favorite quotes that help me understand the world, others, and myself better. I’ve stored quite a few. Here are some from the past year:

“If I fall, I will catch me.” -Drew Barrymore.

“Just because things could have been different doesn’t mean they would have been better.” -Jay Shetty

“The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.” -Joseph Campbell

“As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.” -Rumi

Here’s one I penned myself (though similar sentiments exist):

“Every step you take on the path of courage leads you closer to the person you are.” -Me

Yes, that’s me metaphorically out there looking for myself—wondering where I am, who the authentic me is, and what my purpose might be. In the act of searching, though, tiny insights come, but only in the moments they’re needed.

I don’t resent the journey; I’m absorbed in it. I love this life of mine, despite my shortcomings, despite the pain of it sometimes, and despite all the things that take me down. I love the ups, and I find myself chasing them. Nothing is better than life’s epiphanies and I’m pretty sure I’m addicted to them.

How about you? Are you shaken to your core by evocative statements and quotes? Do you come up with neat little phrases that sum up your year?

The Dickinson quote is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Someone said it on a podcast, and I stopped cold and allowed it to sink in. I’m an Emily Dickinson fan and was surprised I’d never heard it. It’s not in one of her poems, but in a letter to a friend. Can you imagine writing such a pithy statement in a letter?

I am living the life of the uncertain path. Truth is, we all are. None of us knows what will happen next year, tomorrow, or in the next moment. I can’t pretend to know what’s going to happen at any point in the future; I can’t pretend that someone else holds the answer key to my life. Embracing this concept has freed me.

To me, this is faith. Faith isn’t knowledge. Faith is uncertainty.

I’ve lived through every hard thing I’ve come across. I’ve felt divinely guided through every difficult moment, especially the past few years. If I listen carefully, it’s like a tuning fork in my soul, and I’m learning to hear the sound that resonates with me most.

This idea is summed up so wonderfully in those words by Dickinson, as well as in the imagery. Even though my uncertain path can be mired with mud and storms and wild animals, it also has butterfly migrations right over my head and hummingbirds that whoosh past me, reminding me that I, too, have wings.

There’s still so much I need to do in the way of healing from past hurts. Present ones too. This will probably mean working with a therapist. (A writer is nothing if not vulnerable.) Though I remind myself that there’s no shame in this. I’ll do this for me, yes, but also for the sake of my closest relationships—so I can be the most healed version of myself. I’ll do this so I can learn to love unconditionally.

The other day, I went running out in the fog. It was so exhilarating. Fog is a fascinating weather phenomenon. Part of the reason I love it is because I can’t see what’s coming. It’s a reminder that I don’t need to be frightened of myself or my own path.

Living with uncertainty for me is the courage to say to life, “Surprise me.” Meanwhile, I’m out there, lantern extended, looking for myself, and hoping I’m doing some good along the way.