I used to see people driving sports cars, wearing designer clothes, dining in restaurants with mood lighting, handing credit cards to cashiers like their total didn't mean anything and I always just thought, "That's it. That's what it's like to live a good life."
I used to see people living like that and I wanted it more than anything. As a little girl I wanted to be a doctor someday, and my dad always told me that if I followed through on that, then eventually I'd be living a life like those people.
But people change, and thank God for that because my idea of a good life is so, so different now. My idea of a good life is no longer dependent on nice cars, the tag on clothes, night life, or anything else even remotely tied to money. My idea of a good life now is exactly what I have - even in the midst of a global pandemic and some of the hardest circumstances I've experienced yet.
I live entirely and unapologetically for the littlest things. Conversations with my coworkers about what's going on in their lives. The little smile and nod to and from neighbors scraping ice off of cars in the morning before work. Hearing half of someone's phone conversation as they speak too loudly in the grocery store and try to shop at the same time. Buying a new candle or two because the scents make my heart happy. Writing thank-you notes and putting a stamp in the corner knowing that someone will be getting something other than a bill or another page of ads in their mailbox and hoping it'll make them smile. I live for listening to stories from my grandparents and the way they laugh. I live for texts from my best friend telling me about how she misses when we used to live right next door to each other. I live for moments where people are present, because that's when I see humanity on its best behavior.
I live for skylines, and the colors of sunrises before long hours of sitting at a desk doing paperwork.
and for unplanned carousel rides.
and always, always for this.
Sunday, Dec. 13 was Baking Day 2020 - and like most 2020 events, it happened through a computer screen. I'm not anti-technology by any means... it's how I make my living. But I am a humanitarian, and when you're used to a holiday tradition that has always included hugging your people... it's very hard to do it without that and pretend like things are normal.
That said, the alternative would've been to skip baking day all together and that would've been harder. Some connection is better than none, and in this case... it was still a lot of fun. It still included a lot of laughing, Fireball, red wine, a mistake batch, messy countertops, melted chocolate and everything else every other year has seen.
On New Years Eve of 2020, my boyfriend and I spontaneously ended up booking appointments to get tattoos we've both been wanting for over a year. And yeah, there are probably better ways to spend that money and yes, we know that tattoos are a permanent decision. But making those deposits and being handed those appointment reminder cards made us happy and that's what matters.
That was a big lesson in 2020. If it makes you happy, go for it. Don't worry about what other people think or how they feel about it. Happiness is worth a lot and you owe it to yourself, as often as possible.
"Do more of what makes you happy," is a resolution of mine this year and for the rest of my life. The tattoo is a symbol of that. A symbol of temporary discomfort that will end with something beautiful that will last forever.
I've loved Polaroids for as long as I can remember. That hasn't ever changed and probably never will - I think it's the old soul in me. Everyone takes all their photos on cell phones now and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm one of them. But I LOVE being a part of a moment that I value enough to have an instant print copy of. I love experiencing moments that are special enough to me to use up some film, since film is expensive and doesn't last forever so it gives me an excuse to be selective.
If you see me capturing something with my Polaroid, know that everything I'm feeling in that moment is good and I want to remember it. I want to pull it out of an old dusty box 20 years from the day it was taken and be taken back to the feeling I had when the camera flashed.
Between that and my passion for presence, maybe I've always belonged in an older generation. Or, maybe, I'm just a little bit more alive than most of my own.
But who knows?
The Sunday after Christmas was family lunch, and after the meal my grandpa put scratch lottery tickets and a penny at each of our spots at the table.
"You're already a winner," he told us before we had even started. "Because you get to keep the penny."
And while I was laughing, it hit me.
"This is it," I thought. "This is what it's like to live a good life."
The ticket itself didn't win me anything and I didn't care.
I didn't need to.
The money is never what matters.
The moments do.
Dear younger me, you're making it.
Keep going.
xox
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