My Birthday
34 years. I lost my favorite necklace yesterday, one that hadn’t left my neck in five years. The necklace, a tiny trinket bought off a delicate man in an Israeli street market, had been with me through some of the most important years of my life and, just as swiftly as it had arrived, it has seemingly fallen off of my neck and into the desert… a departure that feels more than appropriate.
I want to be more upset about losing it, more sentimental about something that spent half a decade resting on my chest. Instead, I’m feeling oddly satisfied that, like me, it has found itself pulled into the red sand by the gravity of this place and the momentum that we have held onto, together. As I sit here, it feels less like something that I have lost and more like something that I have shed, something that has been left behind as I throw myself forward.
As of this morning, I’ve spent 34 years riding this ball of rock through the cosmos, 34 years shedding pieces of myself into the wind as I’m pulled through the void. Every year brings with it a unique collection of lessons but 33 felt different. A ramshackle concoction of sand, sweat, and surrender, this year has been both the best and worst of my life. Riddled with tenderness, wisdom, and magic, the last 365 days have been deeply human and for that I am grateful.
Endless thanks to those that have been a part of this weird and wild ride of mine. Most of all, my mother… Thanks for making me, that was pretty cool of you.
Onward.