I am not a person of reflections. Partly I have enough difficulty remembering last week’s events. Thinking through the year must be worse than hiking from Monterosso al Mare to Vernazza.

But here goes.

2013 started as a regular year. Some lethargy about work, some hope in a new dotted-line, and some faith in self to be a better person in general. As it kicked off with a snow-stormed trip to Tokyo in January, I spent the next four months repeating work routines, working on strengthening relationships and pining for the extravaganza trip to Italy in November. The highlight of the year. Or so I thought.

It started as an innocent weekend adventure. I cannot describe accurately the sense of warm pride and gentle comfort when I presented myself with the gift of my lifetime. Even though it carries a heavy burden of debt, it is cradled by lofty dreams. June has always been a favourite month. Last year’s was simply special. As I signed off on the countless sets of legal documents, I knew it takes moving on to build a home. Thankfully, I stepped up.

And counted my blessings once again, as August rolled around. Treelined with turquoise-coloured devotion that paved the way for possibilities, it is a path I thought never to regain.

If you are going through hell, keep going.

And I did, Mr Churchill.

 

I was also fortunate to live through a couple of quirky days:

• Heaviest snow storm that hit Tokyo in seven years
• Typhoon Wipha in Tokyo
• Cyclone Cleopatra in Italy
• Stranded due to a transportation strike in Florence
• Carried a 25kg luggage through flooded Venice
• Boarded a plane to London, barefooted
• Suspected of illegal entry at London Customs
• A single fine sun-soaked day in Cinque Terre, unseen in winter
• Failed security screening because of a ball point pen at Changi airport

2013 was my leap year.