Yup, it's my birthday. And it's been pretty nice.
I took the day off Friday. Did the eyebrows and toes. Was a secret shopper at Shoe Nami for my friend Dora. Had lunch at La Divina. Found hidden birthday jewelry in my garden. Shopped with my best friend.
And bought some kick-ass cowgirl boots at Sputnik...something I've just recently been craving. I've been wearing them ever since, but have the urge to change my whole wardrobe to fit them. Is this the sign of some sort of crisis with my next stage of development?
Our Friday night movie was Into the Wild, a John Krakauer adaptation of a true story, of a 23 year old who lives with the belief that his life's meaning will be revealed through his journey of self, almost to exclusion. At one point he asserts with the great omniscient confidence of a recent college graduate that it is not in human relationships where we find truth. This line really burned.
During the course of his journey cross-country, mapless, he rides the rapids, hitches rides on trains, burns his money, eats squirrel on a stick...none of this seemed noteworthy to me. It was how much time he spent alone that I found uncomfortable. That, to me, was the most courageous of things. I was forced to consider my own truths, and how much I use the human relationship to explore them and debunk or confirm them. I felt like he was so very wrong for not believing in the beauty of finding a shared truth, for belonging to a pair, or a family, or a community. And I felt afraid. Afraid of what might be inside of me. If there was less noise. Or say an abandoned bus in the tundra to be stuck in for a couple of years.
I was greatly validated by how his journey came full circle. How he discovered that "Happiness is only real when shared." A quote that closely mirrors a favorite African saying of mine: Shared pain is half-pain, Shared joy is doubled. But I am still left with that aching from the film. The challenge of self-study. Of knowing yourself. Of trusting who you find. And loving her regardless.
And that is where I am on this birthday. With a helluva pair of shoes to start my journey.
Happy Birthday to me...and thanks, Mom. For this beautiful life.
I took the day off Friday. Did the eyebrows and toes. Was a secret shopper at Shoe Nami for my friend Dora. Had lunch at La Divina. Found hidden birthday jewelry in my garden. Shopped with my best friend.
And bought some kick-ass cowgirl boots at Sputnik...something I've just recently been craving. I've been wearing them ever since, but have the urge to change my whole wardrobe to fit them. Is this the sign of some sort of crisis with my next stage of development?
Our Friday night movie was Into the Wild, a John Krakauer adaptation of a true story, of a 23 year old who lives with the belief that his life's meaning will be revealed through his journey of self, almost to exclusion. At one point he asserts with the great omniscient confidence of a recent college graduate that it is not in human relationships where we find truth. This line really burned.
During the course of his journey cross-country, mapless, he rides the rapids, hitches rides on trains, burns his money, eats squirrel on a stick...none of this seemed noteworthy to me. It was how much time he spent alone that I found uncomfortable. That, to me, was the most courageous of things. I was forced to consider my own truths, and how much I use the human relationship to explore them and debunk or confirm them. I felt like he was so very wrong for not believing in the beauty of finding a shared truth, for belonging to a pair, or a family, or a community. And I felt afraid. Afraid of what might be inside of me. If there was less noise. Or say an abandoned bus in the tundra to be stuck in for a couple of years.
I was greatly validated by how his journey came full circle. How he discovered that "Happiness is only real when shared." A quote that closely mirrors a favorite African saying of mine: Shared pain is half-pain, Shared joy is doubled. But I am still left with that aching from the film. The challenge of self-study. Of knowing yourself. Of trusting who you find. And loving her regardless.
And that is where I am on this birthday. With a helluva pair of shoes to start my journey.
Happy Birthday to me...and thanks, Mom. For this beautiful life.
4 comments:
I heard that, all of it. I suppose it's time to pull those boots out of the trunk of my car. Love you, friend. See you soon.
I didn't realize it was your birthday. HAPPY Birthday!
Those are some great boots. I used to have some rockin' cowgirl boots and in recent years I've regretted getting rid of them.
I read Into the Wild last year. I am also sometimes a little scared by what I might find if I was alone more. But I think I'm more scared by people who choose to be alone much of the time.
Happy (belated) Birthday, Emmy! I was thinking of you because I knew our bdays were close; but I was sidetracked with other stuff. Just feel blessed that we are people who take the time to reflect inwardly and try to really understand who we are. I couldn't imagine being this age and just going through the motions. Cool botts, too!
Crud! I meant to say boots, but I', tired and trying to get ready for a garage sale...
Post a Comment