Statuses

103 // My Perfect Day

Today is my birthday. It’s the first day of my 34th year on this Earth and in this life. Today is my perfect day.

We woke up at the perfect time, not so early that I felt groggy or grouchy, and not so late that I felt rushed or panicked. We ate breakfast burritos with spicy salsa and watched political shows and after my girlfriend and I cozied up on the couch for a nap while the snow fell, even the pets joined us.

We woke up and got ready for the day. I took a long hot shower and left knowing we’d have plenty of time to spend where we were going. By then the snow had picked up, and the temperature continued to drop which was disappointing. Snow, for me, is not perfect birthday weather. I lamented my spring birth by cheered as we pulled up to our destination, The Denver Museum of Nature and Science.

We toured an exhibit on the senses and got our monies worth and more from the fascinating and quite comprehensive Leonardo da Vinci exhibit. We found the Native American tribe’s exhibit and browsed the North American wildlife we’d missed on our last visit. We ended with a quick trip through my favorite area: rocks and minerals. It’s so boring I never force anyone to walk it with me unless it’s my day and I know I’m allowed some small entitlements.

We left and went for a lunch of pepperoni pizza and bought everything we needed for the perfect dinner: king crab legs, roasted artichokes, shrimp and Parmesan pasta, and plenty of butter, lemon, and garlic to cover all, oh, and a bottle of sweet Riesling to wash it all down.

We cooked together and played our favorite old love songs. We sang, and danced, and kissed throughout the kitchen and when the cooking was done we feasted right there at the island making a mess of it all.

After dinner, there was coconut ice cream with strong coffee poured over top. We watched Guava Island and then Starship Troopers for the 100th time.

It’s after midnight now. I stayed up until the very end not wanting to miss or waste a single moment of my day. It was perfect, as every birthday I have had for the last 17 years or so now has been, though each in their own way. Some are rowdy, drunken affairs, and some are like this one, quiet, reflective, simple.

I love them all and cannot wait until the next.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

102 // Happy Birthday Eve to Me

It’s my last day being 33 and for the first time, I feel the Eve of my born day deserves reflection and remark.

I liked 33. It was a good year. Though it had its difficulties, its setbacks, and failures, it was a year where I felt most me. I felt freer from my past and more connected to my future than ever before. I felt older, but not old. I felt sure and content and good.

I don’t know what 34 will bring. I don’t like to plan for the age the way I do for the year. I don’t want to make all aspects of my life, my seasons and cycles, into ones measured by pure productivity alone. Birthdays aren’t celebrations of what you accomplished, the are celebrations of your coming into existence and living against odds too narrow to even imagine.

This year, and every year going forward, for my birthday I just want to be grateful that I am here and to hope with all my heart to continue to be so for at least one more trip around the sun.

“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”

― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

101 // Not the Snow Day We Hoped For

So, we didn’t get that snow day we’d all hoped for. The storm blew in on time but just didn’t develop the way meteorologists predicted. The rain changed over to snow too late and the ground was still warm, melting much of what fell through the evening. This morning we woke to what looked like nothing more than a typical Colorado spring snow.

And as if it weren’t bad enough I had to go in, the powers that be in pay grades well above mine decided to put us on a delayed schedule. The transportation department’s worst nightmare.

To be honest, though, this particular worst nightmare wasn’t so bad. The bus was nice and toasty; the roads weren’t too bad, and many of our kids actually ended up staying home.

I took a good book along with me to read while we waited and the sun came out and melted all of yesterday’s accumulation in record time. I got to enjoy a good breakfast and a warm cup of delicious green tea with my girlfriend, and now that I think about it I kind of got paid more to do the same amount of work I always do.

And now it’s over and tomorrow is Friday and nothing can ever be wrong on a Friday.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

100 // Loneliness is Not Personal

Today was a lonely day. You know the kind. Days where you want to talk, to laugh, to be with someone but there is no one around to fill up your time with. Your favorite coworkers are out, your spouse is preoccupied, your family is busy.

The solitude makes the hours drag and as it does the wholly coincidental fact that there is no one available to fill your needs, your void, starts to feel personal. You begin to take it as a sign of being unloved, abandoned, forgotten. You begin to feel hurt.

I got hurt today, but I’m crawling out of it. I know that loneliness is not personal. I know others need solitude and they may need it just when I need them. I know that other people get busy, just as I do when I can’t be available to them. I know that today is just today and not every time.

Sometimes we simply have to occupy ourselves, sooth our own wounds. We have to get comfortable being uncomfortable. We must accept that people cannot bend to our will. It doesn’t mean we are unloved, abandoned, or forgotten. It means we are human and living among humans, never really alone at all.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

099 // Summer-Like and Suffocating

The weather was nearly summer-like today! We reached close to 80 degrees, and the air felt heavy, almost suffocating, and in our sweating exhaustion, we felt afraid for what the true summer would bring.

But, in true Colorado fashion, the weather will swing back to the other end of the spectrum by tomorrow afternoon. The forecast calls for a 30-degree temperature difference and my phone has been ringing with blizzard warnings and closing alerts. We may see somewhere between 5 and 10 inches of snow by Thursday!

I’m devastated that winter has found a way to hold tight a little longer, but at the same time, spending another day snowed in at home sounds really nice.

I love this state and I hate this state and the things I hate about it sometimes make me love it more.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

098 // Life on Easy Mode

In a since-deleted tweet, or perhaps it was a since-deleted Tumblr post, I’m not sure and I can’t for the life of me find it now, I read something that changed the way I look at my life. It said something like: “People that have the support of their family/friends really got life on easy mode.”

My youngest sister, just out of high school and coping with a new job and the confusion of the adult world managed to plan a surprise party for my mom the night before her birthday. We all, despite our pasts, our harsh words and traumas, did what we always do. We came together in forgiveness, compassion, and love determined to make a member among us feel special. There was no bitterness, there were no grudges, and I realize now that there will never be, no matter what.

I never considered that my life was on “easy mode” in any way, shape, or form but reading that post and juxtaposing it against the love and laughter I experienced tonight I know that in at least one way I kind of do.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

097 // Sunday Isn’t Enough

I’ve never been good at Sundays, I’ve always known this, always lamented this, but something has changed. Now, I think, I never want to be good at Sundays. I am fed up. I am giving up on everything Sunday is supposed to be.

Sundays should not be peaceful days to while away reading, walking, resting with our heads in the clouds or lounging on couches. We should be up in a panic, rushing, worrying, frantically trying to hold on. We should be fighting and wailing against the not just the end of the weekend but against a society in which we are given so little time to rest, to create, to ourselves.

I don’t want Sundays to be enough to get me through until Friday. I want more.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

096 // Weather Report

The days have been warm but spring clouds of doom and gloom hover about. Sunshine bring hope but the depression of winter hasn’t lifted yet. There is a regular chill that blows through the city and on it a feeling of uncertainty rides. Winter still stalks and we’ll see snow by next Thursday. It is that time of year when life must fight to wake up and begin, again and again.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

095 // The Gift of a Project

I received a wonderful and thoughtful early birthday gift today. It’s something to do, which I have come to realize are among the best kinds of gifts to get, especially if it is something to make.

A gift like that is a gift of inspiration and motivation. A gift like that is a gift of accountability and new beginnings.

Too often we get stuck along our creative journeys because the end goal seems too vague and all roads begin to blend. We’re afraid to choose a path and the longer we wait the more obscure the way becomes. Complete freedom and the option to choose from infinite modes and mediums can paradoxically leave us with no way to proceed. The gift of a project shows a way that can lead us to the way.

I’ll admit I’m a little overwhelmed and afraid but more than that I am intrigued. I have a lot of ideas floating around already and since this gift comes complete with a deadline and a community built in I feel both eager and supported too. I’m ready to get started right away!

094 // Communing With the Past

I’ve been criticized for buying the books I read rather than borrowing them, but despite all the good reasons why, this last book reminded me why not.

I have developed a habit of reading with a pencil, writing in the margins, and, as it feels to me, reading each book as a conversation between the author and me. I read by writing out my own thoughts too.

I borrowed Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge from my little sister last week and since it wasn’t mine, I couldn’t read it with a pencil the way I normally do. Well, it turns out that the habit had become absolutely crucial to my comprehension. It turns out not being able to write, argue, or think in the margins made it impossible for me to engage with the material on a deeper level.

Worse yet, I would read something that stuck in my mind and not being able to store it anywhere I could not move past it. I had to resort to taking pictures with my phone and writing notes on scraps of paper just to refocus my attention.

I’m happy to be done with that book and on to reading a book that belongs to me again, this time Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. I have my pencil sharpened and look forward to communing with the past again.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren