Birth

Today is my birthday, and with it comes the usual strange longing for nostalgia and renewal. I woke up early today. It was pleasant. I had breakfast. I read the New York Times. I walked to Overton Park. I walked for an hour, and when the hour was over, I found that I was not tired. I sat in the grass. I spoke what I'd been thinking for a while. I made a decision. And now, I feel free. Regardless of the outcome of my decision. I feel like I have made it and shared it, and it is no longer up to me. It was a gift that I decided to give to myself. I like not knowing what tomorrow will bring. I am filled with an overwhelming sense of peace.

My mom gave me a zoo membership and book. I have been reading the book at random times (it's hard to find time to read anything I really want to read these days), and the more I read, the more it means so much to me. A simple book. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard. She wrote it when she was 27. It's kind of a Walden Pond idea. She won the Pulitzer. The first chapter she begins walking and talking about the things she sees, and it felt like I was walking with her, crouching down to peer deeper into the mysterious, complicated and fantastic world that we live in. Her poetry is magnificent.

I am planning on having dinner with friends this evening. I am planning on relaxing and enjoying myself. I am not thinking about the future or what 29 will bring. I am thinking about right now, and I can do what I want...because it's my birthday.