Birthday Manifesto (with addendum)

Birthday Manifesto

Despite the tumult of the last few days/weeks/months there are some things that are moving towards clear.  These things I know to be true.

1. I am in love with dancing.  In dance, there is a truth and beauty that doesn’t happen at any other time in my life.  It’s something akin to sitting in the middle of a mountain range and looking up at the stars and feeling a warm breeze, that is how I feel when I’m dancing.  Connected to my physicality, my beauty, my mind, and emotions.  Completely full.  Completely complete. 

1. At this juncture, I don’t want to move to Alaska or New Orleans or North Carolina.  Last May, June, July, August I was fully invested in finding a teaching job anywhere.  I had the zeal of a new graduate, aching to test out my skills and I researched ad nauseam teaching opportunities in parts of the country and world that fit with my desire to be immersed in mind expanding nature and to be working in a needy community.  Today I get prospective emails from these places and I don’t get the adrenaline burn in my veins that I did a year ago.  Instead I think about the possible dance and teaching chances that I might have here, and look forward to engaging in that way. 

1. Seven months ago, I willingly, of my own volition, left Chicago with the intention to be open to the possibility of not living here.  I chose to explore, to consider, to try out other options in my head and in my body.  A lot of these alternate choices still leave me with a quick step, but not enough to warrant another departure.  

1. Chicago is not a place that I want to live when I am 70.  But Chicago is a place that I want to be now, as a new 31 year old, a bicyclist, a dancer, a teacher, a friend (and a wife :). 

1. It’s no secret that Chicago wears on the spirit but the wearing is countered with love that emanates from people here in my life, which more than compensates and is like a tethered buoy that bobs with abandon but never floats away. 

It’s true, for me each year birthdays get a little less exciting than from when I was 6 going on 7.  Maybe it’s because I’m not with my family, and I’m secretly missing the pistachio cake, a delightful boxed yellow cake made with pistachio pudding and pistachio whipped cream frosting that Mom always made for me, or because the mystery of birthdays dissipates with time.  This morning, with my hot tea and before the sun came up, I opened the patchwork package that Mom and Dad sent and in it were an assortment of little things, clearly chosen by Mom with thoughtfulness but for no particular reason.  She sent me a thick bangle polka dot bracelet, a pink clothespin with a gel decoration on one side, a fancy glass topped egg, and a sunglasses clip for our car.  It’s like a still life painting, the combination is so random, but I know the care from which it comes is huge.  I’ll take a picture when I get home.  Of course the tear inducing item was a letter, with 31 dollars, inscribed with green ink, that carries on the tradition that Grammy started.  Every year Grammy sends us dollars in the amount of our birthday, this stopped a few years ago when she started to get a little forgetful, but that part doesn’t matter.  Grammy died in May, and this year, I somewhat inadvertently sent my sister Julia $21 and a birthday card written in green ink.  I don’t know if she felt Grammy’s birthday blessing with my card, but I sure did this morning when I got the card from Mom and Dad. 


Addendum:  Sometimes I don't mention how lucky and thrilled I am to have a partner in life and love.  Nick is holding my hand and heart through adventure, upset, and joy.  He is intrinsically rooted to my whole belief system.