Three Truths and One Wish

from our walk this morning

1. Today is my birthday. I am 47 years old, and it’s wonderful to be alive, awake, still here. I feel simultaneously older and yet so much younger than that number. I am not at all where I expected I would be, and my life hasn’t gone the way I imagined it would, and yet where I find myself is so right, so much better than I thought, while also so much more difficult. More than anything, I promised myself I would spend today being exactly who I am, loving and celebrating myself. It’s still morning here, and I think what I’ve given myself today might just need to be the way I live all the time.

2. Susan Piver is brilliant. Her latest video for the Open Heart Project suggests a simple question that she labels “a life changing question.” I finally watched it this morning and it was so perfectly timed, such a great way to start my day. Spoiler alert: the question is “who would I be if I took myself seriously?” It reminds me of what Rachael Maddox said recently, how “maybe the magic that was missing all along was the will to be all the way true to the call of your brilliant heart.”

3. I’m still grieving the loss of my Dexter. It’s been almost a year and a half, and I’m only just now able to touch the center of that sadness, which is very much alive, fierce and tender and raw.

One wish: That we take ourselves seriously, and that we celebrate and love and grieve fully, each in exactly our own way.

1. Some things are both miserable and wonderful. My walk with my dogs this morning is a good example: 14 degrees, windy and snowing, so quiet. My glasses kept fogging up, I was wet and cold, and because the thermal shirt I wore is silky, it was slippery and kept catching on my coat and riding up over my belly like some nightmare winter crop top. The last trace of autumn lingered under the first blanket of snow, the gold still visible through the white. Other than having to stop and shake off the snow from time to time and wanting to go faster, the dogs acted like it was any other day.

2. Some things are old and worn but still precious. My baby blanket is a good example: the flannel is so soft, and it has a satin edge that I wore almost to disappearing rubbing it between my tiny fingers and against my cheek. My brother had one just like it, with a light blue background and white roses and the same white satin trim. His is in much better shape than mine. Our mom made them for us, at least that’s how I remember it, the story I’ve told myself about them — (is that right, Mom?).

3. I feel like I am finally returning to myself. Jilly Bean, Jello, Silly Jilly. Striped knee length overalls, pigtails, and bare feet. That little one knew exactly who she was. So precious and goofy and creative and smart and kind. I’ve denied and abandoned her, made her wait, told her to be quiet, broken promises, been such a bully. And yet, she is still right there, ready when I am to begin again, to forgive, to love with her whole heart.