march 25 sdj
It's my oldest niece's birthday today, and, considering that I held her on the day she was born, I'm in a bit of a place about it. Time is funny and also terrifying. Time put grey in my hair and stretch marks on my ass but was that time giving something to me or taking something from me? Does time exist only because we needed to make sense of something we all saw and felt even though it wasn't there? Is the baby I held in 1996 the same person as the woman I'm going to send a video message to in a few minutes? I honestly don't know. What I do know is that my niece, today, is not the baby I held in 1996, and that the time that passed between then and now isn't some random, benign backdrop for some cosmic fresco.
It's distance.
It's distinction.
The difference between the baby I held in 1996 and the woman I'm going to send a video message to in a few minutes isn't only her body's experience of time, it's also all of our bodies' experience of time. The 1996 baby grew, experienced, and integrated, and then grew more, and experienced more, and then reintegrated —— repeat ad infinitum. But, because all of our experiences necessarily affect or otherwise intersect with the 1996 baby's timeline (in whatever way and with whatever force), the way the 1996 baby grew,
and experienced,
and integrated,
and then grew more,
and experienced more,
and reintegrated —— repeat ad infinitum
was almost necessarily dependent on how we grew,
and experienced,
and integrated
and then grew more,
and experienced more,
and then reintegrated —— repeat ad infinitum.
(And yes, I know that writing "repeat" before "ad infinitum" is unnecessary but I was going for a certain cadence, so let me live.)
Before one of you tries to send me to the nuthouse, I promise I am of sound mind. I'm just trying to think deeply about what we mean when we wish someone happy birthday, and what we're actually talking about when we are proud of who people are, or who they become, or what they overcome. Sure, it came out all crazy-like (not unlike the formula for time travel, which is a family deep cut you shan't be privy to) but I mean all of it.
Do you ever think about how strange it is to be anything at all?
Do you ever spend time thinking about how it's fuckin' crazytown bananapants that within the realm of
literally
all
the
possibilities
you ended up alive, and sentient, and top-of-the-food chain, and connected to the fucking internet at exactly this moment? That some of us have been in the stadium when the Blue Jays were contesting the World Series? (Shout out to my son RN, who recently joined me in this club.) Are you not floored by the notion that people can love you and also buy churros for you? I marvel over the fact that within 300m of my home there are six weed stores. I feel giddy when I think of the underlying structures that allow all six to stay in business and turn a profit, and then the structures underlying the whys of all that. Yes, I may have purchased an edible from one of those weed stores and yes, I may have ingested it an hour ago, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong about any of this.
To SDJ and any other March 25th birthdayers out there, I salute you, and ask that you go boldly into your 31st year. Challenge yourselves. Have expectations of yourselves. Reach for things more than a little bit outside your grasp. Grow up but don't grow old. Stay whimsical but don't peform. Believe that good things can happen and remember that bad things absolutely will. Don't ever assume you're wrong but don't be too sure you're right, either.
Also your back and knees don't work anymore. Sorry, I don't make the rules.
🌲 gonna
🌼 go
🌱 touch
🌳 grass
🌷 now
Be good to yourself.
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