Storm of Connections

For the last two hours Rufus (my constant French Bulldog companion) and I have been in the midst of tornado warnings, thunderstorm warnings, lightning, high winds, and possible hail. As I watched the local meteorology team track the storm and give updates, "We now have confirmation of a tornado on the ground..." I could feel the not-so-subtle tap on the shoulder reminding us that we are, indeed, not in charge. Experiencing Nature's power, however, I was overcome by an odd sense of comfort. It made me feel connected and extremely present. Each lightning flash was a millisecond in time that I understood could be split into infinite slivers, an eternity of awe and humility in the wink of an eye. Thunder rumbling its way into my chest making me feel aware and expansive.

Now the storm has passed, it's silent, and I feel exhausted from the experience. That level of bombardment on the essence can be draining. But in that state I feel a lot has been stripped away and I'm left with a kind of kinship that vibrates in me deeply. It's a curious mutual respect that I'm still trying to process.  

Lessons in Happiness

I went to what was hands-down the strangest wedding and reception last night. For starters it was a combination wedding/reception/baby shower. The groom was the brother of one of my closest friends. They’d already had a baby and been married in a courthouse ceremony but wanted the “official” thing, so it was kind of a redo, more for the mother of the bride's sake, I suspect.

Friends at my table kind of heckled the whole thing as a little “lower”. The carafes of wine at the tables were suspect, looking more like a strange rosé Kool-Aid. The open bar was bizarrely stocked. No bourbon just scotch, several bottles grenadine, rums I'd never heard of, and no lemons, only limes. The bar was supposed to be open from 7 - 11pm, but the bartender kept telling us, "Not yet!" The silverware was mismatched. The dinnerware was standard cafeteria issue. It was Mystery Meat Night with what I think was boneless chicken breasts and some sort of paper-thin Salisbury Steak’ish kind of thing. The mashed potatoes clearly came from a box, and the salad was a weird concoction with Lima beans and pigeon peas. After dinner the DJ got going with 80s music and a smoke machine that turned the reception into a weird retro-80s gay bar vibe. The entire thing, start to finish, from the front door to the back was what some people would politely call "tacky".

The entire evening though, I watched the room. Observing, I realized everyone there was truly happy. The bride and groom were all smiles, their parents were completely in their element, and everyone was dancing, laughing, drinking, taking pictures, shuffling around tables to visit, etc. Everyone was present and very much in the moment. No one there gave two shits about what the beef dish was supposed to be, if the silverware matched, or that the plates weren't fine china. It simply didn't matter. That's not what the evening was about. It was about all the individual joys of the evening and the collective joy of the room.

The evening was a tremendous life lesson about what genuine and unconditioned happiness is. I came home last night feeling uplifted, having had the time of my life, and I went to bed feeling like I get "it” just a bit more than I did before.

Birthday Thoughts

Today is my birthday. I'm 59 today and so begins the last year of my 50s. I suppose it freaks some people out, but I welcome it. A friend said to me recently that his 50s is when he "got it" and I have to agree. My 50s were the final scene of Act II. Next year will be Act III, Scene 1 and I'm looking very forward to it.

Last year, and even more so this year, I’m discovering something about birthdays as I age. I don’t need to be feted with huge parties, enormous cakes, or showered with gifts. Like last year, I took the day off as a day to spend on some really good Me Time. I woke up early today to my usual 5a-5.30am coffee, I went to the gym, and came home to my furry companion Rufus. He's been extra attentive today and I can't help but think he knows today is something a little more special than all the other days. We took a great walk around the "Big Block" and I found myself more present and grateful than usual. My spirit is untroubled and unhurried. I’ll spend the remainder of the day reading, playing with the dog, and just appreciating being here. I've thought today about some of my friends who didn't make it this far. I can't help but feel a sense of responsibility to them. To live my life as fully as possible and for myself and for them. To let their spirit live vicariously in me. To keep them close in my thoughts and heart. As I age I'm more appreciative of these things. They're far more precious and rewarding than any physical gift I could receive. 

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The Eternal Morning

Rising before dawn is one of my most intimate joys. Sometimes those mornings seem eternal. The sunrise is a little slower. The coffee goes down just a tad more deliciously. The dog’s snoring a little more comforting. Every sound my 104-year old apartment makes is some sort of joyful, secret whisper. The world seems a little quieter outside. It’s mornings like that I feel hyper present, in tune with and touching every slight nuance of everything.

This entry's image was AI-generated.