it's my birthday!
fifty-eight things
I celebrated my birthday on Saturday. Fifty-eight years old. It’s the oldest I have ever been, but of course, with each passing moment, we are all the oldest we have ever been—birthdays merely provide the punctuation.
My sweetheart gave me a card reminding me:
I think that’s a fitting mantra to lean into as I edge closer to (gulp) SIXTY!
So here is a list of 58 things I love, have learned, and am leaning into for this next 365-day journey around the sun.
I will forever be a work in process because a self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.1
Besides, most of being an adult is whispering “fuck this” while doing it anyway.2
Haribo Sour Goldbears, Twin Snakes, and original Goldbears, in that order.
Wait is an action verb.
To fully commit to loving another is harder than it looks, but it’s worth the effort.
Because it’s better to feel everything than nothing at all.
I’ve come to accept that I will never read all the books I buy, and that’s okay because sometimes, knowing you are supporting a fellow writer by valuing their work is enough.
All women, all human beings, have the right to their own bodily autonomy. Full stop.
This essay on how to live forever is gorgeous because we owe it to ourselves as living beings to take full advantage of our own experiences.
And this essay on the power of giving up and the courage to change our mind.
Monhegan. Always Monhegan.
Baking can be as forgiving as cooking. Case in point: I got distracted making my last batch of brown butter chocolate chip cookie bark3 and used only dark brown sugar instead of two different sugars, and I’ll never go back. Sometimes, mistakes are merely sweet beginnings.
Cream-colored turtlenecks.
Words swirl about in my mind ~ if I don’t capture them immediately, they risk floating away forever.
It has always been this way.
Both the swirling and the forgetting.
I need the discipline of deadlines because, on my own, I become distracted.
It has always been this way, too.
In other words, I need structure and accountability.
Or so I believe.
Because when I review my journals, my fits and starts, and the scribbles in my untitled Google docs, I’m often surprised by what I discover.
The writing is already there. It has always been there.
So this year, I am committing to gathering my words, finding the glimmers, finishing the draft of my memoir, and embracing its lyrical form.
I’m also committing to submitting more work to journals.
Because rejection slips merely show me I try.4
Boundaries. Will they ever get easier??
RMS Beauty’s Kakadu Oil + Henry Rose Queens and Monsters perfume.
Not everyone will like me, which doesn’t mean I need to change or be anything other than myself; everyone is allowed their opinions.
And everyone is doing the best they can.
Running into an old friend when you least expect it can change the course of the whole day.
Being open to making new friends can be life-changing, too.
Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want because until you do, you never know what’s possible.
Taylor Swift and Travis Kelcie—there I said it, and yes, I know it’s So High School.
Dogs. Preferably large.
And while we’re on the subject, as much as I adore Violet, I’m pretty sure she will be my last puppy.
Fresh lime juice and seltzer water.
I (still) care more about my appearance, how I’m aging, what my house looks like, and what other people think of me than I want to admit.
I’m working on it. I’m working on a lot of things.
Finding mismatched blue and white china at estate sales.
Writing letters, both sent and unsent.
Collaborating with other people.
My kids—even though they don’t technically qualify as kids anymore.
Cat Bates Jewelry, Kila Bates pottery, Sylvia Alberts' painting, conversations with Daphne Pulsifer, and cuddles with Emma make for the perfect afternoon. I’m looking forward to many a walk up Lighthouse Hill to Edison Studio this summer.
Don’t lie to me. Don’t keep secrets thinking you are protecting. I want to know my part. Telling the truth will never hurt my feelings.
Sea glass and smooth stones.
This manifesto for thriving at midlife is pure gold, affirming I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, although there are days when I don’t really know where that is either.
Clogs of many colors (Swedish Hasbeens and Nisolo have great sales).
The ocean. Clouds. Any shade of blue.
No-recipe recipes by Tamar Adler and Sam Sifton.
Because meditation can take on many forms.
To be an overly sensitive overthinker is an awful combination. This year, I will do my best not to be overly influenced by one impulse or the other.
Pause is an action verb, too.
Asana keeps me grounded in my body even when I’m upside down.
P.S. I couldn’t do a handstand until I was forty. It’s never too late.
Don’t let the perfect get in the way of the good.
Because even under cloud cover, a total eclipse is extraordinary.
Don’t assume you already know the final chapter.
Turn the page and keep going.
thanks for reading ~ xosew
JOIN ME ON RETREAT ~ ONLY TWO SPACES REMAIN!
The Faraway Nearby: stillness, story, sea
September 18-22, 2024
Monhegan, Maine
what’s your story? it’s all in the telling… . .
The Faraway Nearby: stillness, story, sea
If you have ever wished to experience the magic of Monhegan Island, this retreat is your invitation. With Rebecca Solnit’s poetic memoir as our guide, we will write through the island's topography and the geography of the senses to embody our storied experiences.
The Faraway Nearby is an intimate retreat for women of all ages longing to learn or return to the practices of writing and meditation. There will be ample time to search for sea glass and hike the trails through Cathedral Woods to the rocky shores of Pebble Beach. Special guests will share their own creativity as another opening to our own. Through writing, ritual, and restorative yoga, we will meditate, celebrate, and honor the variations of our authentic voices, as can only happen when you find yourself on this artist's island 10 miles out to sea.
Monhegan taught me that all I need is me
Val G
thanks for reading ~ I’m grateful for your readership. if something I wrote speaks to you, I’d love to know! click the ♥️, leave a comment, or share this post with a friend.
Virginia Woolf
@womenwhorunwiththemoon (on IG)
Sylvia Plath
Turn the page and keep going! Happy birthday, loved this list.
Happy belated! What a list!