the annual post, just a few days late….
This past Sunday, I ventured out into the world to do a little self birthday shopping. (Gotta get those once-a-year discounts and freebies, ammiright??) I was feeling positive, jamming to a little rainy day Taylor Swift, when I made up my mind to stop and get a coffee, kill a little time before the mall opened. I walked inside, placed my order, had a pleasant interaction, and returned to my car, delighted by the peace I felt.
Because I drive an itty-bitty 12-year-old Hyundai in a world of massive Escalades and speedy Teslas, I eased my way slowly out of my spot, taking great care to make sure no one was rushing through the parking lot behind me. As I straightened the car and prepared to go into ‘Drive,’ I noticed another car at an odd angle, facing me as if they were waiting to get into the lane. Immediately, they honked. I was startled. Had I hit something without noticing? Was I about to? I couldn’t decipher the problem until the driver began angrily motioning for me to drive so that she could move forward. It wasn’t a busy time at the Dunkin’ Donuts - and there were plenty of spots - but apparently, my ease was slowing her down. Shocked, I began driving as she glared at me before hurriedly turning in. How dare I be safe? How dare I move at this leisurely pace? God forbid she choose another way around; she would rather sit there and get mad over a 20 second delay to her morning, which is exactly what I wasn’t going to do.
You see, I’ve been thinking about a lot (simplicity, presence, ease, optimism, balance, people pleasing) as I enter my 33rd year today. My Jesus Year, they call it, because Jesus died at the age of 33, and - no matter your beliefs - you’ve gotta admit the man accomplished quite a bit in his short life, which is probably why those of us approaching this age feel the urge to get to it or crumble to pieces under the pressure.
“For some, turning 33 means that a burst of energy and success happens in life. For others, it is the beginning of a midlife crisis,” reads a website called Inner Engineering with Sadhguru. HA. Frankly, I can’t help but assume I’m due for some successful energy, because I’ve been in a quarterlife crisis since I graduated college! It’s about time I get to feel good about things, right?
But all mortality aside, I’d like to believe that this is simply a pivotal age of realization. We are no longer “young,” still not quite “old,” but we can sense the clock ticking. So we’re beginning to notice what truly matters to us. We’re questioning the life plans laid before us. We’re thinking a lot harder about how we want to spend our time, and who with, and what we’d like to gain from it - also, what we might like to give through it.
Except now I can’t help but wonder how we’re supposed to do this successfully when every time we take a step in the right direction - and by “right” I mean what feels warm and natural, in line with our values and the person we’re trying to become - somebody honks their horn, snapping us back to a colder reality. And once we know that reality, it feels wrong to be happy. It feels uncouth to seek and point out the positive when the negatives are so obviously all around.
I mean, it’s so much easier to notice what’s wrong than what’s going well. My Instagram feed - which I honestly shouldn’t be tuning into - is full of bad news. And advertisements. And ways to be better. That’s what’s trending, and it’s exhausting. Especially when you’re just trying to get your head right and accept yourself as you already are.
At 33, I’m accepting that I can quite easily get hung up on the fact that other peoples’ impatience or stress or struggles for success have to become my own. I’m an empath - it’s what I do. But I’m learning that I can balance this by going against the grain and navigating it in my own way: by singing along to “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” in a traffic jam, by smiling at the lady who chooses to glare, by stopping to observe a woolly worm traverse through the grass, by tapping a stranger on the shoulder at Starbucks so he doesn’t go any longer with the sizing sticker still attached to the back of his new slacks.
And these tiny, minute moments? They’re those bursts of positive energy I’ve been looking for.
So if you’re reading this today - or tomorrow, or whenever - I want you to try a little something for me. Go outside, and seek something unexpected. Take a good hard look at the clovers growing in the grass, or the stones in the gravel, or the rogue flower growing up between the cracks in the sidewalk. Find a creature in the trees or the clouds. Listen for a strange bird whose voice makes you laugh. Notice how blue - or how grey, or how starry - the sky can be. See how many changing leaves you haven’t yet taken the time to notice. Whatever you choose to see, or hear, or touch - take time with it. Allow it to bring you immense delight. Snap a picture, attempt a sketch, or maybe even try writing a haiku (that’s 3 lines of 5-7-5 syllables each, for those who don’t remember, and yes, I had to Google it). Whatever happens, I’d love to hear how it goes.