JESSE AND I are busy with tasks until six o’clock, when the party begins, so I’m not able to head back to my room to get ready until then. As I pull off my work clothes, I hear the commotion outside: indistinct chatter from guests who have already arrived, car doors opening and closing as more people show up and park, the show choir singing “Jingle Bell Rock.”
My heart goes into overdrive just thinking about the conversations I need to have tonight and wondering when Sky will arrive. He and his family could show up in a few hours, but they could also be out there right now.
I’m nervous to see him. I’m nervous for tonight in general. But at least I’m not undecided. Tonight will be hard and sad, exciting and new. I focus on the positive part of that statement as I pull out a festive look from my closet. Inspired by all the snow on the ground, I decide to go with a winter white outfit: white pants, a cream snow jacket over a white cashmere sweater, and a snowflake necklace and earrings.
As I clip my earrings in, I spy my bucket list on my dresser. Every single item on it is checked off. All of them. I can’t help but feel proud of all the progress I’ve made since I’ve been here.
It’s amazing what changes a person can make in her life in three months if she really dedicates herself to doing the work. I like that I’ve learned this. I like knowing it’s possible to start over. No matter how bad things get, there is always a new life waiting. A better life waiting. We just need to have the courage to take the necessary steps to go after it.
This newfound wisdom has given me the quiet surety that no matter what happens next—good or bad—I’ll be okay. I’ll be able to figure it out. I might not have found my passion while I’ve been here, but gaining this confidence is an even better gift. At least that’s what I wrote in my journal last night.
I tuck my bucket list inside my dresser now and walk to my bed, pulling my journal off my bedside table and jotting down a few thoughts I haven’t had a chance to note yet today.
I’ll hold on to this practice even after tonight. In fact, I think I’ll keep a lot of the habits I’ve developed in my time here.
I won’t go back to using my phone as I did before, for instance. I’ve really benefitted from the separation from technology. It’s made me more present. I don’t think I’ll go back to watching TV either. I’ve missed a few of my favorite shows, but I’ve discovered novels, and reading is the nicest replacement.
I’ll never go back to the hectic, unfulfilling lifestyle I had before. I like rising early and working hard in a setting that brings me joy. I like ending the day with gratitude and good company. And I know the inn isn’t the only place where I can live like this. I can live like this anywhere. I just have to make the conscious choice to do so.
And I won’t regress to the person I was before. I don’t think I can, honestly, given all I’ve learned about myself and the changes I’ve made since I’ve arrived.
I really like the person I am now.
And I really like one other person . . .
I close my journal, setting it aside.
It’s time to tell that person how I feel.