On Living, and the Setting of Goals.

So yesterday, I did a thing. Well, I didn’t really. But 25 years ago yesterday, my mom did — she had me. So on a sunny Sunday, I became a quarter-century old. I got to celebrate with my friends and family. I got to work doing something I love. I got luxuriate in the sunshine, bask in the power of my own two feet. I also got to take stock of myself. In the most cliche of ways, I got to think about what it means to be me.

I am proud. That’s something good and bad. It means I care about how I present myself to the world, the things I accomplish, attempt, exclaim. It also means that sometimes I let my pride get the better of me. That I avoid risks so as to save face.

I am fierce. I care, deeply about the world around me, about our shared humanity, about flowers and trees and people the same as and different from me. That fierceness can be dangerous though. Fire burns if it isn’t contained.

I am intelligent. I revel in complex ideas, nuanced debate and multifaceted schools of thought. That love of academia, can, however, spiral into the esoteric, if left unchecked. It can alienate, when knowledge is meant to be savored and shared.

I am determined. I want to create a legacy. I want what I do and say and try and fail — I want everything I am and everything I do to matter. Sometimes, that wanting leads to bad choices. It can cause missteps, hurt feelings, and misunderstandings.

I am all of these things and more. I am not perfect. I strive and reach and crave and want, and sometimes I fall. Sometimes, I don’t do what I set out to do.

For much of my life, I’ve let the first stumbling block keep me down. When I’ve failed to reach a goal, I’ve moved on to the next. No sweat. Better to move on, move up, move past, move forward.

Not this time. I’m old enough to know that I am responsible for myself and all that I am. The good parts and the bad.

So it’s been a week without blogs. I won’t say it’s okay, but it is. It has been. It happened.

It happened, and I’m acknowledging it. I’m getting up, dusting off my writing skills, and starting where I left off. I’m not starting over — not this time. I’m continuing on. I am proving that I am the kind of person who makes her promises matter.

So, here’s my 125th post for my 25th birthday. I hope you stick with me through 365. I may have fallen, but I’m getting back up.


— S
Day 140: May 22, 2017


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