Metamorphosis

I am getting ready to go to my 10 year reunion this week.  I have thought a lot about who I was back then and the person I have become. Yeah, I still have curly hair and giggle incessantly, but so much has changed. It is astonishing to me to think of the metamorphosis I have had. While I joke that many of my memories from high school have been replaced with useless medical jargon, I do remember how driven I was to succeed. When I was 18 I knew exactly what I wanted, I only wish I could say the same at 28. 

Ten years of life experience, of success, joy, disappointment, death, and failure and I am here to tell you that many of my life goals have changed. That sometimes the things we wanted so badly in life, were just detours to what we really needed to know. I have learned that success and status in this life mean nothing.  That the relationships we build and the people that surround us are everything. 

I have come to believe in change. Today was the first day of fall in Portland. I almost had tears in my eyes as I felt the crispness in the air as is whisked in and out of my hair. The tops of the trees are turning a rich burnt ogre and fire engine red much to my eyes delight. I quickly pulled out my fall coat and headed out to clear my head this evening. As I walked the streets of Portland this evening, there was a lightness in my step as if a weight of the past months had been lifted off of me. My life has been a cacophony of chaos the last couple of months. Work has weighed on my soul, the tragedy of real life pulls on my heart strings, and each day trying to rinse and repeat the routine can be exhausting. Yet, the seasons of our lives are filled with ups and downs. These are the moments that define us. The moments that speak of our character and show us that we were stronger than we thought we could ever be.

I believe in love. I feel like 10 years ago love was more of a fairy tale to me. Yet I have witnessed real love. I have watched grown men cry and heard babies scream with glee. However, the most beautiful of love stories was watching my father in his last days of life. The steady flow of friends and family. The friend who slept on the couch so my father wouldn't be alone. My mother who was there at his bedside 24 hrs a day. If anything good can come from my father's death, it was the lesson that love is real, and it is nothing to be afraid of. That I can surround my heart with as many walls as I want, but love will seep in through the cracks like a great flood. Love will prevail.

 I believe in beauty. Most of my last 10 years I have struggled with my self image with the person I am exteriorly. Yet, over the years I have grown into my skin, and am more excepting of the woman I am becoming. Because at the end of the day it all means nothing, I too will be left a withered prune someday with nothing left to show but the person I am inside. Beauty resides all around  me in the pacific nw.  It is the man running the marathon beside me with bilateral prosthetic legs. It is the little girl giggling at the table next to me uncontrollably. It is the 80 year old couple eating the biggest piece of chocolate cake, with no remorse. This is the beauty that I have come to appreciate over the years, not because It wasn't there before, I'm just slowing down to take it in.

My mom has the picture above on our mantle at home. My mom loves this picture because she feels that it embodies me, my personality, and my spirit. When I look at this picture, I am surprised at the woman I see. A woman who has known successes, and failures. A woman who has know love, and the greatest of losses. A woman who cries because she was moved by beauty. A woman who is ever evolving, a giggling mess, a running fool, and a raging liberal. And yet, being resilient enough to laugh at myself along the way has made all the difference. May the adventure continue! Have a gorgeous week my friends!