i always feel like my birthday is a good time for reflection, like it's really the start to a new year for me, much more so than january 1. maybe because my birthday is in the middle of march, just before spring comes along. it's right on the cusp of something new. though winter often lingers, cold and grey and dirty brown and left-overs from snow and sand and salt. our spot on this earth is tilting toward the sun and the warmth reaches us more strongly when the sky is clear. sometimes, we get days in march that trick us into believing that winter is really over; the wind doesn't have a bite, the air is warmed by the sun, snow and ice melt and run down the gutters.
i sat outside in the sunshine on my birthday this year and let warm sun soak into my skin and turned over pieces of memory, thought and feeling. some melancholy. some hopeful.
on my birthday eve i wrote in my journal: sunshine and air warming. coffee - of course. i should polish my toenails. i will be 35 tomorrow. 35 times around the sun & spring is here early this year. i have words that i am saving for when ben gets his next job. for now, i need some words that are for staying, waiting, looking, hoping.
{i did polish my toenails on my birthday, in the sunshine. and i wore sandals for one whole day. now i am back to wool socks and closed-toe shoes or boots.}
i wrote to another march birthday person that i hoped this month would be full of more hope than melancholy.
i do know that some melancholy bits make the hopeful bits shine all the more brightly. and i keep working at picking up my pieces, jagged bits and smooth, and arranging them into something beautiful.
the older i grow
the more there are circumstances that must be worked through, walked through
the more i am learning what i need
i need sunshine
and sleep
and an afternoon or evening here and there where i am home - all alone
i need spaces, big open sky and space
my body craves exercise - biking or walking or running or swimming -
mostly just to be outdoors with my kiddos or my husband
i need time with ben,
time to just be
i need words, in books and on paper and with music
i need to write
i need to send mail, letters and packages
i need to smile
to drink coffee
to feel at ease
i need water and trees and maybe sage
i need to sleep in the mountains or beside the big lake
with my man and with my kids
these are (some of) the things that make me healthy and strong.
and i keep learning how to lay out the shards and make something beautiful in the mosaic of it all. how to keep my palms from getting cut on the glimmering pieces of today and tomorrow and yesterday, of here and there and where, of tears and joy and pain, of do and give and receive, of work and rest, of laughter and peace, of strength and weakness and grace.
pieces covered by grace. the beginning of my new year.