my sweet 26
an ode to being late and learning to let go
26 is sweet and simple, like buttered toast with homemade jam - nothing I do can mess it up.
I was late to set up the table for my birthday party. The invite said 7 and only at 6:20 was I in a car on the way to my boyfriend’s to begin setting up. Still wearing the white boxer shorts and button-down tank I’d recently unwrapped as a birthday present from my sister, I rushed downstairs to call an Uber and crossed my fingers that the package for my new shoes had been delivered. Both arms cradling a box of taper candles, crystal bud vases, 16 wine glasses, and an unopened bottle of tequila, I slung the dress I would wear that night over my shoulder, slipped on my Havaianas flip flops, and rushed out the door.
Arriving promptly at half past the hour, I called the elavator to the roof to make sure our spot was still vacant. It was a breezy summer day making for a windy rooftop soirée, an unexpected turn for a day in early July. Nevertheless, we quickly (although not smoothly) stretched a large roll of drawing paper across two tables, securing the sides with heavy-duty tape. Only as I crouched down beside the last leg of the table to fold in the corner of the tablecloth did my first guest arrive. I’ve always appreciated the promptness of certain friends to contrast my habitual lateness. A trait I’m not proud to call my own but can’t manage to break despite countless efforts of yearly resolutions. I realize running late generates a certain comfort that only the chaos of a last ditch effort can soothe.
By half past seven most of my guests had trickled in, unsurprised by my lack of preparedness, yet eager to help. The table was strewn with wine bottles in bright shades of orange and red, surrounded by ivory taper candles and small bud vases, while bamboo plates and wooden cutlery rested in plastic cups next to cardboard boxes of sourdough pizza. We gathered bouquets and snipped the stems of fresh wild flowers and within a matter of minutes colorful blooms scattered out the tops of small vases. Soon I welcomed my final guests, and the patio filled with stories and laughter of old memories and new.
The sky grew dark and more wine was consumed. Songs were sung and the cake was cut, music played softly and guests mingled about. The chaos of the early evening had settled and a cool breeze swept across the roof, leaving a noticeable chill in the air as I wrapped myself in a warm sweater. The night was coming to an end well past 12 o’clock, I hugged my friends goodbye and reflected on a night well-spent.
When I looked back at the way the night started, there are things I could have done better, differently, for the sake of making the night seemingly more perfect. But I’m learning that’s not the point. To strive for perfection in all that we do. Rather we must learn by doing; what went well and what did not, so the next time we get a chance to try again, we do it better. And I’m learning that withholding from trying even if we’re scared is the fastest way to failure. Only in taking one step at a time do we get closer to where we want to be. So here’s to practicing being imperfect, to taking the first step, and to action towards living the lives we always imagined we’d have.
This newsletter serves as an artifact of my musings - on life throughout its ups and downs. While I’ve found it’s more difficult to write when things are going well, my goal is to recognize the beauty in all that life has to offer; to bask in the simplicity of things and the abundance of few. To understand how suffering creates meaning and the importance of never giving up in the pursuit of more life.
To feel peace from within, to share love and be kind. To share laughter with friends, and drink wine until late into the night. To ask for forgiveness and to forgive. To mesh old with new, and to never stop searching for answers. To stay curious and passionate. To learn and unlearn. To look for light through cracks of darkness.
As for this next year, I hope to share more joy with you all. I’m excited for the opportunity for adventure, for spontaneity, and following my heart. To trust that it will all work out and to commit to living an abundant life. To bring in more love, kindness, and playfulness in the world, and share so with others.
Your birthday party sounds and looks like it was so delightful! "Rather we must learn by doing; what went well and what did not, so the next time we get a chance to try again, we do it better." — definitely one of the major lessons of growing older. Thanks for sharing!
Sweet post. And (a super late) happy birthday