This is 53, and I am delighted.
I wrote ALL the words yesterday in my morning pages before the sun was even up, and again this morning.
I have poured through and read hundreds of messages across my multiple social media accounts, hundreds of text messages, and returned every call.
My incomparable Sis created a birthday celebration last night with all of my favorites including my Ma Ma’s Swedish Meatballs. Ezra, my great nephew even got to try them and was a fan, so we are now on the fifth generation of love for one of her best dishes ever. She also had peas, mashed potatoes, and rolls—all my favorites.
Plus, I asked for Arkansas strawberries this year instead of a Texas Chocolate Sheet Cake. Ma Ma used to make me a strawberry pie every year or she and Pa Pa would take me to Shoney’s Big Boy in Memphis for theirs. Baby #E loves them too and was delighted at Aunt Birdie’s choice. I did include a photo of him at the end of the meal where his plate looks like he just had some of Rachel’s trifle from that infamous Friends episode. He also was confused by the blowing out of the candles part.
Sis also got me an obscene display of wildflowers and surprised me with the Stanley French Press Thermos I had seen at Bass Pro. To know me is to know my passion regarding French Press coffee (I toted one on my four-month sabbatical last year), and when I saw this one, I knew it would be perfect for those long writing days in the writing shed keeping me from going back and forth to the cottage to warm up my coffee. What will Stanley think of next ???, and no I am not on the Stanley Cup bandwagon, but I do own two thermoses because I am fifty-three and we grew up with them.
Yesterday I also took time to write a 53 Things bucket list of items I want to do/see/etc., over the next 365 days. I have been doing this every year since I turned 49 and wrote 49 Things and while I never check off all of them, they have helped me to remain focused on the dreams of my heart in the chaos of a noisy, busy world. I 10/10 recommend.
Last year I was in a MUCH different emotional/mental/physical/spiritual space than I am today. Only seven AMAZING prayer warriors knew what I was walking through, and the secrecy and silence only made it worse for me (I have a lot of childhood trauma around secrets). I was keeping ninety-nine percent of my life from friends and peers, and even the majority of my family. I kept my eyes on God, and my faith in what I wholeheartedly believed he alone was walking me through. Also, by walking, I mean crawling. By this time last year, I was most definitely crawling.
This is not an attempt to garner sympathy, but instead to acknowledge the difference a year can make.
I did see the plan I was given through to the end (along with some wild surprises). I did choose myself (over some painful objections) and flew to Italy and experienced the professional dream of my life teaching at CIMBA. I did remain overseas for a total of four months in seven countries for my first-ever sabbatical. I did FINALLY complete the authoring of a first book I had been writing off and on, for more than a dozen years. I did turn down several good things as I patiently (okay that is an absolute lie), scratch that, impatiently wholly healed, rested, focused on my health, and kept writing like my life depended on it. And even while working (albeit at a much different pace), I forced myself to unwind decades of messaging stuck in every cell of my body about what constitutes “good work” for rhythms and a pace that is better suited for me/myself/I versus the robot I fear (scratch that, did) become in my own life (and to others).
A year ago, I was not sure I was going to survive until June 1st. Today, I am pondering whether or not God actually intended me all along to have a long, healthy life and that I was simply oblivious to that truth as a result of my chosen furious pace in response to my deeply rooted fear that I was running out of time. Run-on sentence anyone?
Again, the difference a year can make.
I do not deserve the life I have, that I live. I do not deserve the love of my family or the intense loyalty of my friends. And we all know that there is not a human on planet Earth who has been gifted better mentors. For all that I have not had, and all that is wrapped up in that, I have been given much more than I deserve.
While so many see their lives as winding down as they get older, I see mine as turning on.
I am more convinced than ever before (and no longer because if I don’t believe it, I believe I won’t survive my current state of existence) that my best days are ahead of me. My best work. My best contributions to the world around me. My greatest love(s). My best experiences. My best health. My best pouring into the people in my life.
So, thank you.
Thank you for loving me. For being my friends, peers, acquaintances, readers, mentors, family. For simply being the dearest to my heart.
David Viscott said, “To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.”
So it is.
I loved reading and listening to this friend !!!
Proud of you. Love this audio version!