The Fireplace Is Making Me All Pensive....

I think I'm gonna stop writing long explanations for these extended absences I've been taking from blogging. Perhaps what's more important than the absences is that I keep returning. Can I treat this blog like a good friend? You see, I try, really hard with my good friends to be consistent. I realize that friendship is built on all the litte, seemingly insignificant moments. But, here's part of the beauty of such friendships ... that as lovely as all the little moments, is that -- when too much time has passed -- I can call up, and we can pick up where we left off. I NEED for this blog to be that good friend. The one with whom I can be most myself. The one who will welcome me with open arms after long silences. Life is too full in this season. I wear out easily. But, I come back....

And speaking of absences, well, ahem ... so that whole Top Ten List??? I seem to have only made it through the first five. I was gonna apologize for that too. Only here's the thing ... if I continue along the same striving-for-authenticity/be-myself-line of reasoning, 5 out of 10 is probably kinda realistic. I try. I really do. But, I am so so flawed. And sometimes I don't finish things. And sometimes I only make five posts when I strive for ten. But I give great hugs. And I affirm my friends. And, sometimes, I crack a pretty fun joke. And I don't mind snot and tears. And I make a killer key lime pie. But, sometimes I don't finish things....

My birthday. It was really great. I had multiple celebrations with friends and family, which is always a fun thing ... when your birthday stretches out over the course of a full week. A few highlights included: a hike in the golden leaves of the San Francisco peaks with Mom and Dad, a midnight skinny dip in the Pacific Ocean with a few girlfriends, gathering a few gals from my cohort at my house for Baboudi (an awesome Middle Eastern communal dish), and a full heart's worth of cards and calls. I am thirty. And I did a little bit of necessary grieving for all that never was before it came, such that, when it arrived, I was able to celebrate all that has been.

In a completely different vein, I want to share a thought that's been flipping around in my head recently. I don't feel like I'm being my truest self in relationships these days. And it's not because I'm trying to hide. I think maybe it's a combination of a few things:

1) I'm undeniably weighted down by the fluster and buster of this season (I'm fulltiming it in grad school, doing a therapy internship at a clinic that requires me to be there about 20 hours a week, and tutoring to make ends meet).

2) Perhaps because I am new at this whole hearing-the-pain-of-others thing, I think I'm a bit more somber than normal.

3) The longer I'm single (which inevitably entails more time out of each day spent alone), there's something very independent and loner-esque that develops in me. I've gotten used to doing things alone, and as lonely as that can be at times, there's a part of me that likes it. Or at a bare minimum -- that is comfortable in it. And I think there's a part of me that very easily tucks herself in and doesn't come out with friends. Because that's what she's used to doing.

Sidenote for #3 -- Sometimes I get afraid that I am going to grow into this incredibly socially awkward person, and then, 50 years will pass, and I'll be The Old Cat Lady (no offense to any elderly women with cats). I told my sister that the other day, and she graciously pointed out, with much laughter, that I don't even really like cats. And she also reassured me that I'm not gonna be an Old Lonely Cat Lady, but still, the fear is there, and it whispers to me sometimes at night before I climb into bed.

4) I spend so much freaking time on the hellish freeway systems of Los Angeles that I get exasperated on a fairly regular basis. Ok, so maybe that doesn't really affect the way I am in friendships, but I needed to rant a minute. They suck. Seriously. Like, a lot.

5) In this whole striving to be an adult and take care of all the responsibilities that come with it thing, I just don't laugh as much. And ... I'm not sure how to say this. Laughter is a big part of who I am. BIG. If I'm not laughing together with people regularly, I'm not entirely being myself.

So ... all of that to say, I have this understanding, in my mind, of who I am. But, many days, realistically, I'm not her. Or at least not entirely. And I've begun to wonder if maybe that is actually just how life is. Not in a cynical-hopeless kind of way. More just in a coming to peace with what is kind of way, while at the same time, giving myself and others a lot of room in the garden to grow.

I saw a wonderful little quote the other day, and I should've written it down, so I could quote it all eloquently. But I didn't. But it said something to the effect of: "Joy is not in finding yourself, but in creating yourself." There's wisdom in that, I think. Some days I do better at stretching myself out into all the little places that feel right and true. And other days, I curse at traffic, and forget to smile, and worry about acquiring too many cats. Maybe those are both parts of me. And maybe I can trust that there is grace for all of me. Or maybe, what I'm really wishing is that I could bring the child out of me, while staying true to all the wisdom learned, battles fought, scars acquired. Because I remember her, all uninhibited and full of wonder. And some days, maybe I just miss her.