In six days, I celebrate another birthday. (God willing.)
As always, I'm getting nostalgic and sentimental. I'm ~reflecting~ and diving deep. I'm taking inventory of all the good and the bad, the magical and the ugly, the challenging and the joy-giving. I'm thinking of all the big and small changes that have happened in my near 28 years on this Earth.
And you know what I can't help but think?
I've had a good, good life. I mean, I have gone through my fair share of trauma and struggle and suffering. (Don't we all?) I'm still a Melancholic Black Girl. But all my days, I have been loved and held up by an extensive tribe of family and friends and colleagues and collaborators and kin spirits. I have gotten to pursue some of my wildest dreams. I have laughed so hard, I've peed myself. I have cried because the joy and beauty and grace this world has offered me has been overwhelming.
Like, ya girl is so good.
And I think I forget to take a moment to rejoice. I forget about the time I quit my job to follow my dreams and got to work from home in my pajamas for two years. I forget about the time I hopped on a plane to Europe to visit my best friend and fell in love with Paris. I forget about the time I hopped on a plane to New York and got to break my own heart open in the best city in the world. I forget about the time some friends and I created our own grassroots community organization, our own theatre production, our own web series.
I forget that I am bold and fearless and ambitious and driven when I want to be. I forget I have the magical ability to dream what I want and go after it. I forget I have the tenacity to get myself unstuck when I feel like I've become stagnant.
As I move into 28 and as I conjure more dreams, I just hope I remember to stay grateful and mindful of this all.