My yoga teacher read this poem during our class this morning and it was so beautiful I had to share it. Hope you enjoy this Wednesday poem.
Almost two weeks ago, Olive turned five.
I didn’t write much about it then, and I told myself it was because I was so busy with her birthday party and her family dinner and the excitement and preparation and post-party exhaustion that came with both.
That was partially true – I love birthdays, and I love making hers special, so I am usually completely pooped by the time it’s all over – but I also just really didn’t know how to write about it without leaning heavily on cliches, or composing a post that was just a single long exhale and a slowly whispered, “Five?!”.
So much of this seems beyond the realm of possibility.
A few months ago I had an existential crisis while sitting in a hairdressers chair.
I went in all light and breezy, filled with that desire you get in the summertime to change things up. I came out three hours later less a few inches of hair, plus a balayage situation, and filled with crushing questions about how I’m choosing to live my life.
Seems about right, doesn’t it?