The Best Day of My Life

I had a memorable cashier at Whole Foods on Sunday, the day before my 31st birthday.  She had a huge smile and was very personable and something about the way she told me to have the best day of my life the following day, like the idea had just struck her and she thought it was the greatest thing, was unforgettable.  It WAS the greatest thing; it IS the greatest thing, that each day we wake up into is where all the action happens.  It’s where all creations are made, where all seeds are sown, where all dreams are dreamed, where all hearts are broken and where all hearts mend.  Every kiss, every laugh, every song, every hug, every cup of coffee and glass of wine, every great conversation, every small thing that matters, all happen Today.

No day is inherently more extraordinary than any other.  Some we can’t wait to get here, some we can’t wait to get gone, and some, well, just seem to go a little unnoticed.  But one thing remains true, the days are exactly what we make them, no more and no less.  We are all creating, all the time.  We are all artists in that way.  Life is a canvas with which to paint our dreams.

I had a really, really wonderful birthday, full of love and gratitude for all of the amazing people (and freakin' sweet new Goodwill dress :) that helped make it so.  I have yet to answer the question, but the first time someone asks me how old I am and the answer is 31...well, it’s gonna be a little weird.  You gotta understand that the baby of five older brothers never gets to be THIRTY-ONE....yet somehow, here I am.  

I’m planning to make this a really big year, full of many of those “someday” dreams that I’m just going to make happen.  Because I want to.  And because, for the first time in my life, I really feel able.  Growing can be scary because we don’t want to look at and admit to all the things we don’t know, and there is so much I don’t know.  But the great news is that I’m surrounded by extraordinary people who have learned the things I want to learn,  who are doing the things I want to do, and who are so generous in their willingness to help me.  

So here continues the journey....that I cherish oh so much.

And today?....

Today is the best day of my life.  For it is the one that I am living.

A Strange Kind of Blessing

Last month my purse was stolen out of my car, along with the stereo for the second time.  The stereo?....no big deal, except the fact that my sweetie had bought it for me as a replacement for the last one.  The purse?....well, a whole identity is in a wallet, and not only was my wallet was in there, so was my camera, which is one half of my business.  That felt really bad.  

I had gotten the bag at a street market in Austria.  The camera was a Christmas gift (from the same sweet boy who had gotten me the stereo).  There’s such an overwhelming sense of disbelief.  Things that went with you wherever you went, paying for groceries, getting beers at the bar, documenting your life, that your hands touched every single day, can’t just...be gone...can they?  

I’ve felt a similar way with people.  There’s an added sadness when we lose people that were there in our every day, as well as in our hearts.  I lost my father at age 9, and my best friend in my twenties, and it just seemed impossible.  Voices still on answering machines, footprints still on porches, plans still made for a very near future.  How.......?

It’s actually a really powerful thing, to basically lose your identity, but to remain standing very much in who you are.  Small rectangular pieces of plastic don’t tell much, besides a name and a number of some kind.  The theft coincided quite nicely with me officially registering Let That Songbird Go as my business with the county clerk’s office, and opening an official business bank account to go with it.  I decided to use the opportunity to step, with pride and joy and momentum, into my new identity.

I also decided to get excited about shopping for a new camera.  There were a few things about the one I had that I would change if I could, and I took my time researching the perfect new partner and sidekick that would be everything I needed.

Then something amazing happened.  Someone slipped that “they” were totally wanting to help get me a new camera.  Then someone else acknowledged that the first person had slipped.  I mentioned it the to my sweetie, who also confessed to being in on it, and so the list grew, continuing to surprise me in the coming days.  By the time I was actually presented with the camera and the list of folks who had helped get it I was in total awe of the sheer wonderful-ness of the loved ones in my life.

It’s easy to feel like we don’t deserve the kindness bestowed upon us sometimes.  As much as I try to show my love and gratitude to the amazing people in my life, they continue to teach me how to do better, and I love them all the more for it.  

My new camera is freakin’ awesome.  My new wallet is handmade with songbirds on it (or chickens....or both) and is filled with new small rectangular pieces of plastic that identify me, and my New Self. 

Sometimes we wish we could start over, and sometimes it takes a strange kind of blessing to get us there.

Life is Precious

This is Nana.  She showed up on a Saturday just before a storm.  We know the neighborhood cats and this wasn’t one of them.  She was relentlessly affectionate and squeaked when she meowed.  There was no collar.  We put out a box and a blanket for her under our covered doorway and went to bed.

In the coming days she rarely left that box.  We would come home after being gone for hours and she was there with her little head peaking up over the edge waiting for us.  We put out food for her while we kept watch for fliers in the neighborhood and continued to check Craigslist for any potential matches.

I started to dread taking her to the vet to check for a microchip.  I took her in; she had one.  I waited tearily on the floor with her while outside the door they discussed the situation (and how sweet a kitty she was) and called the number.  Such an interesting thing, to create such a bond with another little being and then worry that the bond might be permanently broken because they belong to someone else.  Aren’t many broken hearts just like that...

I took her home while they waited to hear back.  I got a call a few hours later saying they had gotten ahold of the people, and then he said a long trail of other words that I wasn’t really paying attention to because I inevitably thought they were leading up to me having to give her back to someone who loved her as I had grown to do.  The string of words instead had to do with many owners since them, an ex-boyfriend who used to live here, Pennsylvania....and ended instead with, “So, she’s your cat.”  He was very happy to give me this news, given my state earlier that morning!

My mom’s dog just showed up one day.  And I can no longer imagine her not having Leti.  They’re best friends, they’re family, and they’re freaking perfect together.  We weren’t in the market for a cat, as much as I’ve been missing my Annabelle back home in Washington.  We’re slow to acquire responsibility, especially when it comes to lives dependent on us.....four little golden dependents have been a good number so far, but this little creature came to us and she’s perfect.  I cried after two days when she was gone for a while and I thought she wasn’t coming back.  

Life is precious.  Living things are precious.  Kindness and the bonds it can make are precious.  The sweet and humble appreciation of the box we put out for Nana in the beginning has changed my life.  We showed her kindness, and when we’re gone that box still remains a symbol of it.  It’s special; it's just for her.  Such an interesting life, going from house to house, owner to owner.  She found us and she found home.  So did we.

People

Once, when I was feeling down on myself about my accomplishments in life, or lack thereof at the time, I remembered someone who’s life I had profoundly changed.  And it was a new friend, a very recent experience that I was still in the thick of, and it was a huge shift for me.  

There are marks to be made on this world, absolutely, but they don’t always involve winning awards, or getting a certain number of likes on your Facebook page or selling X amount of copies of your new record, or, heaven forbid, winning a Grammy.  These things are great, and we shouldn’t stop working towards what we want, but in the end it’s all about the people whom we have walked beside, maybe for a mile, maybe for a day, maybe just long enough for a story and a smile, maybe ‘til the very end of that long, long road.

I have saved peoples’ lives, I know this.  And some I couldn’t save, I know that too.  But if I’m going to measure myself by accomplishments (a bad habit, but I know we all do it) I’m damn well going to go by the lives I have changed for the better.  We’ve all made profound impacts on people throughout our lives, and what an incredibly beautiful thing about being human.  

Please take a moment to realize all the times you have made someone’s life better, whether it was a shoulder to cry on, good conversation, a giggle fest that just wouldn’t quit, saying “I love you,” “Thank you,” or simply calling them a friend and really meaning it.  These things matter, and much, much more than a lot of things we let get us down.  

If I am at all wise, it’s all my mother’s fault.  I dedicate this to her.

A Long and Precious Road

Good things take time, a lot of them.  Not every good-thing-in-the-making gives us a feeling of instant and uplifting gratification.  The darkest hour is right before the dawn... there are a lot of words arranged to convey these kinds of sentiments.

I had a “what if” thought the other night.  What if I’m already doing all the right things?  What if I’m doing exactly what I need to be doing?  I haven’t quite figured out yet how to keep my sights on how far I’ve come, rather than only on how far there is left.  “How far I’ve come” somehow gets smooshed up into a tiny little space when I look back, while “how far I have left to go” stretches out forever, ominous and intimidating, far beyond the horizons I can see.  

When you’ve written down directions to get somewhere, but you’ve forgotten, or didn’t think it was important, to write down the distances between turns, how far do you go sometimes before turning around because you assume you’re going the wrong way?  

It’s always been hard for me to plan.  It’s been hard for me to invest in things that will take 6 months, or a year, or several years.  Up until my early 20’s (and somewhat onwards from there...) I was the queen of the 3 month relationship.  I’m not sure exactly what happened at that point, but the life force of The New exhaled its last breath and I needed the next fix.  

Maybe “fickle female” got to my head.  It was like I didn’t have enough trust in myself to make good decisions about what to invest my time and energy in.  Like the Big Bad Wolf (or Bratty Little Sister....what names do you have for That Part of You?) would have long jumped ship by the time we got there and resent the heck out of me for locking us up in that decision for so long (and I do NOT want to deal with that wrath!).   Like there were two of me: one to make promises and the other one sure to break them sooner or later.  

We are constantly heading in one direction or another and there is no possible promise of security, or success, or happiness, or anything else for that matter, despite how much we do to achieve it.  Do your best to point yourself somewhere good.  Do it every day.  

Then for God’s sake let off the brakes and enjoy the journey.