Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?In daylights, in sunsets
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love
One year.
2015 to 2016.
One year ago, I wrote about turning thirty. About feeling the need to take control of my health and to make positive changes in my world.
To begin pushing outside my comfort zone. Being more mindful. Being more present. Beginning ballet. Eating healthier.
And my, oh my. How much has changed in a year.
I’m now on the verge of turning thirty-one — in a little over a week. I’ve maintained my resolutions to make positive changes. I’ve continued in ballet. I’ve become stronger and healthier, physically and mentally. I became a health and wellness coach. I joined a new band to bring music back into my life. I’ve transitioned from full time working mom to stay-at-home/work-at-home mom.
A lot of good in my thirtieth year.
I’m finally growing into myself. I’m finally just beginning to figure out who I am, and what it means to be me. I’m finally learning to bend and not break, to compromise and stay true to my self. To honor my time and my intentions while still finding satisfaction in helping others.
My kids are growing bigger, more independent. My relationship with Kraut is growing deeper, stronger each day.
But really, how do you look back on a year of your life and measure it? How can you possibly attempt to quantify something so profound as the passage of time and stages of life?
You cannot only count the good days — the bad days teach you strength and resiliency.
You cannot only count your happiness — sadness and suffering show you gratitude and grace.
You cannot only count the past without also looking at how it has provided for your future.
I can only learn from the past year. I can look forward to the future. But today — this moment — is really all I have.
I am embracing the present. This year, I vow to be PRESENT. I vow to have grace in the passage of time, and in both good days and bad. I vow to be true to my journey and to be open to the day and whatever it brings.
Thirty-one. It’s less flashy, less scary, less BIG than thirty. It’s the ‘been there, done that’ of birthdays. I refuse to be blase about it, however. It marks the passage of a wonderful, chaotic, terrible, extraordinary, magical, awful, fabulous year. And it’s worthy of celebration.
Happy Birthday, me.
bloom. 