I turned 33 yesterday and I’m not really sure where to
start. The truth is, maybe I don’t have as many thoughts on this as I thought I
did. It’s not a milestone, which we’re taught to reflect on and measure against
and so I’ve been writing and deleting sentences for the last half hour.
Some start with today: It’s early and I’m on the couch with
some tea and not enough hours of sleep. John left for work already, a long
drive to meet a client, and Luca is still sleeping. I can hear him turning over
in his crib, sighing just slightly. He’ll wake up and there will be Sesame
Street episodes and sippy cups full of milk.
Some start with a reflection: Yesterday, I was buckling Luca
into his car seat as we were leaving for school and work. He was talking to
himself, as 2 year olds often do, and I was running late, as 33 year olds often
do. And I stopped, thinking that this is what life looks right now: breathless
and always running a few minutes behind, caught up but also as in it as I can be.
Some start with nostalgia: I am in a dorm room at the start
of a new semester and we are sitting cross-legged on the floor. I am wearing
heels and buying a “going out” shirt, it was blue or black and paired well with
jeans. I am waiting in line somewhere, reminding someone of a reservation. I am
dropping expensive drinks and I am dancing and I am laughing. I am wine tasting
and cake eating and I am in a furniture-less room, in a new house, with my
favorite people.
Some start with lessons learned: This past year has been all
about settling into a routine—what works and what doesn’t and what we can
change to make it work for the moment. I’ve slowly, slowly, slowly started to
realize some standards I need to let go of, some expectations that don’t need
to be met. Some messes that are ok as is.
You probably know where this is going: maybe this is what 33 looks like. All these
sentences taken together, the then and the now, jumbled up to come up with
something new. And I have to tell you, as flawed and tiring as it can all be, I
really really like the way it looks from here.
I want to print this out and post this on my wall: "this is what life looks right now: breathless and always running a few minutes behind, caught up but also as in it as I can be." SO TRUE!
ReplyDeleteOne day we'll be on time for everything! (Haha, who am I kidding, I'll never be able to do that...) Thank you!
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