Posts Tagged ‘celebration’

When I finish writing what I’m going to write here and hit the “publish” button on the side of the page, this will be my two hundred and eighty second post on this blog.

Two hundred and eighty two.


I know it’s usually the big anniversaries that are celebrated.  Like two hundred or three hundred or even two hundred and fifty but today, this time, I decided I need to celebrate two hundred and eighty two.

Because that’s an accomplishment for me and I’m tired of celebrating when other people or the calendar or social convention tells me that I should.  Usually by the time I actually arrive at the “approved day of celebration” I don’t feel like celebrating at all.  It’s like I wish I could just wake up one morning and decide that day is going to be my birthday.  Just decide on the spur of the moment that I want to spend that day celebrating me and eating cake and doing what I want to do, because I want to, not because the calendar tells me that I can.

And with that in mind, today I have decided to celebrate this little place I created and the blood, sweat and tears that have kept it going.  Well, to be honest, there hasn’t been a whole lot of blood and sweat involved but the tears, oh there have been tears.

Some people in my life know about this blog but there are also some who don’t.  There are people who know me but have no idea about this place or what is here or even that I write at all.  That’s the way I like it.  Some might say that I’m hiding; that it’s not right to keep part of who I am tucked but for me, it allows this place to be the more authentic me.  I don’t have to edit and censor.  I don’t have to define to people what I do here, or why I wrote what I wrote, or to justify or explain myself.  This is the place I come where I don’t have to do any of those things. Keeping a little part of me hidden actually allows me to be more open.

When people find out that I have a blog the first question is usually “what is it about?”  I always find it a difficult question to answer because, truthfully, the answer would be that this place is about me.  And maybe I just need to stop apologizing for that.  Maybe I should stop thinking it’s selfish of me to have something in my life that’s just for me.  Because it is.  This place is about me and the things that I think and feel and struggle with and like and love and hate and question and contemplate and all of that makes up who I am.   I write here as a record for me to look back on in those times when I lose sight of all the people I have been along the way.

And so I’m going to take a moment to pat myself on the back for two hundred and eighty two.  Not all of them have been brilliant, or intelligent or even remotely articulate but this place represents me, and I’m definitely not always any of those things either. But it is about me, for better or worse and, I have discovered, it has also become about the people who join me here.  Those of you who have been here since the beginning and who have become an amazing source of support for me, and those who have found the Palace along the way and who have pulled up a chair and stayed.  I hope you’ve enjoyed your time here so far because I’ve certainly enjoyed having you here.

Happy two hundred and eighty two.  I’m looking forward to seeing what comes next.

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Here it is grey.

Here it is a drizzly kind of day that forces you to remember your umbrella and cram your feet into your rain boots.  It is a day that encourages inaction and leaves you dreaming of hours spent on the couch, under a soft blanket, feet tucked up under you.

Here it is a day for quiet, a day spent living in your own head.

Here it is a day that will be lived and then forgotten; washed away by all of the rain that pours down.

Here it is the most regular of the regular kind of days.

But somewhere else, this day will be magic.

When I’m having a day of nothingness, I like to think that somewhere else, someone is having a day of amazingness.

Somewhere the stick will turn pink and eyes will fill with tears of joy.

Somewhere the ring will fit perfectly.

Somewhere eyes will meet across a crowded room and a love story will begin.

Somewhere a door will open and a first step will be taken on an amazing new adventure.

Somewhere a plane will take off, and a dream will come true.

Somewhere this is a day that will be remembered forever, celebrated forever, cherished forever.

Even if that somewhere isn’t here; it still makes me happy.  It makes me happy to think that somewhere out there, today will be someone’s best day.  I have had some pretty wonderful best days, and one day it will be my turn again.

And until then I will watch the rain fall outside my window, and celebrate someone else’s day.

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