Sarah Morrigan speaks in pictures and words

This year has been very special for me on many levels. Being the year that marked my 15 years in Oregon and 20 years in the Pacific Northwest (the first five years being in Seattle), I made a conscious decision at the start of this year that I would do "things differently" in 2012. In fact, as of January 2013, I will have lived in Portland longer than in any other places ever in my life. Many activities I had long turned them into my "annual traditions" -- which gave me a sense of comfort in an illusion of stability -- has been eliminated. Most notably, my long-time volunteering with the Art in the Pearl (has done every year from 2001 to 2011) was no more, and also my annual Camp Adams retreat was something I did not do in 2012.

Much of this decision was initially made because of the deep anxiety I had about my uncertain future. For too long, my life had been too focused on passing time and killing time -- a habit that I acquired when I was newly homeless back in 2003; being bored, lonely, and having no place to go, I learned how to waste hours at a time in order to tune myself out of the misery (which was something I was really in denial about). For me, a hope that next year would be there for me to do the same thing, was a great comfort -- and the more I age the shorter each year has come to be felt.

At the same time, I was seeking to be a more authentic person. Until last year, my life had been largely superficial. I was a loner with very few acquaintances and even fewer genuine friends. Although I had long been active in both religious and political activist communities, my social interaction was mostly prescribed, artificial, and did not develop into a real friendship. I had long defined myself by religious creeds and political ideologies, even though none of them really felt real. Since my early teen years, church played a fairly central role in my life (regardless of changing beliefs). This year has been perhaps the first time in which I had a largely secular life that was not necessarily connected to a church. Speaking of community, this was also the year I made a departure from the homeless/poverty community. For a long time I was deeply embedded in community organizations that interfaced the skid row, but this year I made a clear separation from this, mostly to overcome my own deep-seated poverty mentality and overall bad vibes inherent in such communities. The year 2012 also began as a continuation of my very active involvement in Occupy Portland -- and a significant part of my life this year had been dedicated to the Occupy movement even though personally I began developing doubt -- disappointment, disillusionment -- in Occupy as early as in summer. Nonetheless, Occupy became my community and the diversity of its people opened the door for me to meet people that I would not have otherwise met if not for Occupy Portland.

2012 was also a year I got to do lots of things I never was able to do in the past. During summer I went to both Timothy Lake near Mt. Hood for a week-long camping, and to Hagg Lake (by bicycle from Forest Grove). I also have enjoyed ecstatic dancing and sex-positive parties, both of which really put me in touch with my own sexuality.

The year, however, had its own downsides. I took a six-month-long hiatus from my artistic activities, which ultimately became a full year-long. Since the start of Occupy Portland, my graduate studies had also been disrupted -- and due to professor illness and Hurricane Sandy this year this was further exacerbated. Likewise, my life was losing balance when I was still deep entrenched in Occupy, with a now-false hope that it would have led to a real "revolution." In a way Occupy might have become my new substitute religion, a cult of a sort. Toward the end of this year, I had to come to terms with the inevitable fall of Occupy and the collapse of my illusion.

One of the greatest treasures of 2012 for me was that I made genuine, personal -- and sustained -- connections with several people, beyond the superficiality. Some of them I met this year, some were old acquaintances reconnected, and some were from Occupy Portland.

I am giving thanks to this year's blessings.

In late January this year, I was at a small ecstatic dance group, and afterward someone approached me and told me that happiness was finally on its way. In retrospect this is right on.