Hi friends. We’ve been up to all sorts of mischief over here, including touring the Getty museum where Luciana walked downhill for the first time. That was priceless.
Some heavy things have gone down too. A woman I barely know lost her 21-month-old daughter. Though I didn’t know her well at all I sobbed for days. Couldn’t imagine that sadness and couldn’t not feel some of it for her. A friend of my friend’s husband died of a heart attack at 45 last week. Those things.
And still I can find it in my head to get anxious about…..what I always get anxious about: work, money, what’s happening, am I washed up, should I stop, do I need to dream bigger than ever (which on some days I definitely do), do I care do I not care….those things. Being a mother has put so much into its proper place–right-sized it, as one of my dear friends says–but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my days. In those moments I insert the old tape, push play, and turn the volume up way loud. It doesn’t feel good–it never has–but I no longer judge myself for having those moments. Instead I congratulate myself on how much easier it is to get out of them that it used to be. It’s partly being a mom, and it’s partly just getting to a point where I’m not willing to spend my time stressing about all sorts of imaginary outcomes. Especially because, as my beautiful friend Alysia put it so perfectly the other day: we are living the Good Old Days.
Here I am, young, married to man I love deeply, with a baby girl running around. This is what I get to look back on when I’m old and resting on the front porch. This is the love that life is about.
I say this knowing that this isn’t the dream for everyone–the Good Old Days are also being up at the theatre til 3am drinking whiskey. Or hiking alone in Wyoming. Or hunkering down on a project so challenging and elusive that it’s maddening and also the most inspiring thing you’ve ever done. Those are magic too.
Cheers to the Good Old Days. The days I want to inhale like lavender growing in the garden. The days I want to catch in a mason jar with the fireflies. The years that are going by in which we have the blessing and privilege to love those around us passionately, especially because sometimes it happens that suddenly you don’t get to see them again. I wish for you the knowledge that you are living an exquisite chapter in your history and that you change the radio station in your head if it tells you otherwise.
photo found here