Saturday, September 20, 2014

33 - My Jesus Year

Last year, Mike and I celebrated our birthdays on the Amalfi Coast. This year we celebrated the morning with a snuggle with Maple in California.  At 32, I felt more grounded than I do today and yet I was tethered to nothing except Mike. Now I am tethered to Mike and Maple and, as of recently, California. And yet, I feel more than ever as if I am floating, but not floating. More like violently jerking. Some kid's balloon in a strong wind.

I have gone crazy over this dog. I know it. I am pouring all of the motherly energy that has been bottling up for quite some time into this little life and while I never thought I would be a crazy dog person, suddenly I am. It's nice to know I still can surprise myself and that something can affect me on such a primal level. I have wanted a dog for a long time, but right now I need a dog for so many reasons. And of course, it was not great timing and didn't not make the most sense. But to me, it has been the only thing that makes sense for quite some time.

When I was 25, my old boss and mentor said to me, "Fear...." then he knocked on a table. "It's as real as this table." He went on to say it's the reason you go out and get wasted instead of sitting down to write or budgeting your Indie film. It's the reason you put things off for twenty years, pursuing a career everyone tells you you are good at, but one you know in your heart was actually the easier choice. There has been a lot of that lately, that fear, as thick as wood. So thick when I wake up I feel like I am walking, face first, into a closed door that makes me just want to go back to bed. But instead, I listen to music. Hozier, to be specific. And today, Feist.

I know there is a reason we landed here. I have to trust that reason will appear. But it's hard to keep face planting. I tell myself that my life is by design. I am not a victim here. I am an eager and willing volunteer. My life is out of order because I chose it to be. We got married and spent the nest egg because travel was our number one priority. This is what happens next - the messy unknown. But no matter what I tell myself, it doesn't make it any less isolating.

Over dinner at Dupars the other day, my Dad told me 33 was going to be a good year. I told him 33 was a big year for Jesus, too, but it still sucked. Another friend emailed me the same thing - "Happy birthday! It's your Jesus year!" The promise of great things ahead. In all honesty, I would feel pretty accomplished if I could turn water into wine. But turning my skills and interests into a job would be a nice consolation prize.  But then I think to myself, Jesus was a simple man with no money but a heart of gratitude and love. I may not have 12 disciples, but I have friends who would never betray me, a family who is thrilled to have me home,  a dog that loves me because I pet her belly, and a husband who surprised me with tickets to a Black Keys concert. So, shit, maybe 33 is shaping up to be pretty epic. I mean, who doesn't want puppy snuggles to start off your birthday?


daleboca said...


Carmen said...

i agree that 33 will be a great year
so , so great