I had a birthday last weekend. Big 35! I started to blog about it at the time, but then saved the post into my huge list of drafts. I actually went back to read some of those drafts. There are some good ones that looking back now, I should have published. It's hard to click publish all the time. Lots of bigness goes on beyond what is published here. And for me, it takes a lot of courage to talk about most of it to the general and invisible public.
I can't believe I'm 35. Well, if I stop at look in the mirror long enough, I can definitely see the evidence. Lines on the face, more and more gray hair, a softer physique all whisper the truth. But me, the person beyond this shell of a body, can within moments, lose track of the years of experience, the people and places that have influneced me and have helped to shape me into the person I am now. In those brief moments, I'm just me. My mother's daughter. A skinny, little girl. A quiet, akwkward, contemplative soul who likes to sit and listen.
I'm mostly still that same person. But not entirely. As I lived a few more decades, I'm a little less akward and a little more comfortable in my own skin. I still love to listen, but I can also feel the stirring inside of me for the want to share.
I am surprisingly (to me) quite content with my place in this world. Mostly because I try to remember that everything I need and love is here, with me in one way or another. And that sometimes we just have to decide to be the person we want to be. I often suck at being that person. An empty cup will bring out the worse, I'm learning. But I try very hard. And some days, I honestly feel like I don't even need to try because I look around me and I'm surrounded by goodness, beauty and love. It's the many little moments of our days that make up a lifetime. Moments of glee and moments of quiet pause, sprinkled here and there, that feel up every nook and cranny of my heart and make this life whole and full.