I am a few hours away from being a thirty-nine year old woman. I feel thankful. I am, I think, in one of the loveliest stages of my life. As each day passes I become more and more aware that I have a life that is worth loving from every possible angle. My heart is full and although I question things all of the time – where to go next, what to do now – I feel more at peace than I have in a long while.
This time last year was difficult. I struggled. I was unsure. My health rattled my bones and made me stand up and take notice of how well I was caring for myself. Since then I’ve made a few changes. I’m still in the process of managing things and finding the right balance but I now firmly believe balance is achievable and I hold onto that when I have a day where I feel particularly unsteady. And some days, I do still feel particularly unsteady. I’m human.
I’m now married to a man who has made me feel so at ease with who I am that I find myself amazed at how full of promise even the simplest things are. I’ll have dinner with my husband, I’ll call my husband, I’ll take a drive with my husband. I like having those thoughts. I like that I have a friend who I am so in love with that the very idea of spending a few minutes lying side by side with him, talking about our day, beats any other way I could spend my time. Right now he’s in the other room wrapping my birthday gift in pink tissue paper with white polka dots. I know because he came in to the spare room where I’m writing to ask me where I keep all of my wrapping supplies. Hearing him fuss with the tissue as he watches the Eagles game, knowing that he really thought about what to get me and how it would make me feel, makes me smile. That may sound so simple or even a little sugary, cheesy plain Jane la-la land. It’s not though. It’s all of those things but more than that it’s a smile full of satisfaction. It’s attached to this feeling deep down in my gut that is the definition of gratitude and I thank all of the stars that I have it, that I have him and that we’re together.
I think that my entire life has been spent on a wheel. I was always chasing something or focusing on something that I thought was chasing me. Had I been hooked up to a large hotel, my wheel and I could have powered the place for several tourist seasons just by how swiftly and how often I moved my feet. And there is no telling what I could have accomplished had it been hooked to my mind which had a habit of running relentlessly as well. I’m thinking Broadway, every marquee, every show for the past five seasons. Talk about exhausting.
Just recently, I came to realize that without even knowing it, I had stepped down from the wheel. Maybe it was when I wasn’t feeling well and took so much time to rest. I like to think though that it’s the inevitable by-product of someone finally taking charge of his or her life and the freedom that brings. I feel free. And because of that, my life feels much lighter than it ever has.
Today, now, sitting in my pajamas, writing this post, I am happy. I am grateful. I am in love. I am excited about my life. And, because I spent so many years on that wheel, I am toned and conditioned to give things my all. I’m ready to learn and live and to embrace the wonderful things that come my way. I like this stage, where I’m sitting quietly and taking it all in. It’s really an experience to just sit and be happy, it kind of kicks ass in the best possible way.
As thirty-eight ticks by and bids adieu, I’d like to say thank you. I learned a lot. It was a bitch of an age. It was also full of joy and wonder. I took charge, got beat up, found my way, fell down a rabbit hole or two, got married, disagreed with family, found two jobs, made up with family, lost my way, lost my zest, dragged my zest back out and kicked it in its ass, worked my own nerves and drove my patient husband almost crazy. I lived, laughed, cried, panicked, worried, paced, ruminated, pushed, pulled, kicked, screamed, wailed, wrote, wrote and wrote. I championed my own cause and got in my own way. I clawed my way up a mountain and then slid back almost to where it all began under the weight of the nonsense I was carrying. I beat myself up and nursed myself back to health. It was a tremendously difficult, eye-opening, amazing year.
So tonight, as I tuck myself in next to my love I will sit quietly and appreciate the silence. I’ll say thank you for the day. I’ll remind myself to live in the moment and then, I’ll forget about all of that as I wonder how much frosting I’ll be able to consume tomorrow and over the weekend under the guise that I’m celebrating before people realized I have a problem.
Thank you for reading, always.