09 February 2019

lighting a candle. then lighting another.

an ordinary, beautiful moment that bloomed this week: a thick slice of birthday cake and a glass of cold milk while francis dreamed. i lit a candle for the occasion, because i believe everything is an occasion, and the very first lumineers album was softly spinning because this time of year always reminds of me of san francisco, 2013, when i turned twenty five and listened to it on repeat while i explored the city entirely on foot. this album, at this time of year, is where my right-now self and some long-ago-now iteration of me curl up in overstuffed armchairs to sip whiskey and tell each other stories.

and anyway, this week i passed into thirty one and i keep thinking of my view from breakfast that sparkling morning, when new york was unseasonably warm and they were right there, perched right across the table from me, one with dark curls, the other with roses on his cheeks. my boys. here. so many years, i missed them before we'd ever even met. so many years, i wished on candles for them -- for this -- for the chance to live days loving them.

i think maybe when you are given the chance to discover how very much you want something, gratitude becomes etched in your bones. memory of wanting, and the fear that often follows, becomes a tiny bird that sings from the eaves of your house.

another birthday: another year i get to live in the same world, inside the same days, as them. this is my soul-closest gratitude, my bone-deepest joy. and when i think of this wild and precious new year laid out before me and what i plan to do with it, my intentions find their shape:

to read, to listen, to witness, to absorb.
to notice compositions of breath, milk's curl into coffee, hands in mine, everything.
to live in wonder, inquiry, contemplation, and awe.
to be a blessing to my husband, our son, family, friends, neighbors, the world.
to live every day, every breath, as a love letter, as a thank you note.
to live the best life we can, together, day by day.

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