We’re one week from Christmas as another year wraps up. Last year I jotted my New Years Resolutions on a scrap piece of paper on a plane, and this year was no different. I brainstormed on the way to Nashville and thought of reasonable, yet challenging goals.

2011, I tried a new recipe every week through August and learned how to cook quite a few things. I honestly can’t remember my 2012 goals, but 2013,  I read The Happiness Project and tackled a different assignment every month. 2014 ushered in a plethora of goals when I introduced my reformatted blog, Advice From Nashville. And 2015 goals panned out perfectly, besides maintaining a food diary and yoga twice a week. I vowed to make 2015 the best year ever, and I’ll be damned if it didn’t pan out that way.

It hasn’t been easy. I won’t pretend my life is perfect and sugar coat the facts, but the truth is, I’ve grown so much as an individual this year, and if it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you. If you had told me several years ago I’d eventually live in Colorado, I wouldn’t have believed you. What I’ve learned this year is anything can happen if you work hard enough towards your goals. I never dreamed I could drive in snow the way a butter knife spreads jam effortlessly across a toasted slice of bread, but I’m commuting in several inches of slush, and it’s really not that bad.

Aside from feeling homesick occasionally, I’d say we’ve transitioned well. Before we moved, I imagined leaving everyone behind. But in my dreams, I’m left behind, and life goes on without me. Two of my friends started dating new guys recently, my bridesmaid gave birth to her first child and my Mom acquired a new kitten; it’s no wonder I’m happy and sad all at once. Life goes on. It doesn’t pause or slow down just because you moved.

I notice Nashville references more often since we moved. Ann Patchett’s memoir covers her life in Nashville, and for me to stumble across her work in the midst of resettling is comforting. Not to mention, Patchett apparently co-owns Parnassus Books in Hillsboro. If only I could channel my inner AP and write half as well as she does.

These homesick sentiments wash over me in waves like someone experiencing food poisoning–eventually it passes but in the meanwhile, these feelings can render you nauseated and lifeless.

If the mountains out here aren’t therapeutic, forming friendships has most certainly helped. Keegan and I hang with my coworkers frequently, and the weekend before Thanksgiving gave us hope. It marked the first time this place felt like home. We barhopped with Christine, Jimmy, and Jason. We also caught Victor Wooten’s show last Thursday with Jason, Sonya, Zach and Hazel. Between the multiple Christmas parties, Risk on Friday night and Miriam’s tacky sweater contest, Colorado has treated us well.

It feels like our lives are returning to normal. I’m working on New Years Resolutions before our trip to South Dakota. Keegan’s taking me to Moab, Utah soon AND we’re skiing for my birthday. As the year wraps up, it’s time to reflect and strategize. I don’t know how next year could possibly be better than 2015, but it’s worth a shot.