When you’re approaching a deadline of any kind, time seems to contract somehow, becoming telescoped and ever emphasized. I have a client who’s waiting for her first child to be born, and she tells me that every day seems like it’s twice as long, so fierce is her desire to see her baby’s face for the first time, and hold the little one in her arms. I have another client that’s waiting to hear back on what could become the defining moment of his life — an audition for a big part on Broadway. Either way, these are big deal moments.
I, of course, have my own version of this coming up on Tuesday. I’ve been guided to step back from work a bit, to prepare myself for this moment but also so I can have the time and emotional space to enjoy it. For myself and clients alike, I’ve noticed the tendency to rush past these moments, thinking them not important enough to celebrate since they’re not “there” — wherever “there” might be.
This one I fully intend to celebrate, with champagne and cupcakes. I’ve got some great joint venture partners offering free meditations, e-books and discounts of all kinds, so there’s plenty of incentive to buy the book on April 24th. The value of the incentives far outpaces the price of a paperback.
I’m just happy to have made it to this milestone in my life, and to extend the bunches of love I feel for everyone around me now. This shit is truly infectious when you work it.
Today’s a special day in my life for several reasons, not the least of which has to do with committing to spend the rest of my life with another person. We met serendipitously, we courted for a time, and then we decided to take it up a notch, to tie the knot, to marry. Part of me never thought I’d be married. I’m pretty independent, have my opinions, and value my freedom. But when I saw that I could have both freedom and the sense of loving someone deeply and unconditionally, I thought why not give it a try?
Of course, it’s not for everyone, and that’s fine. Maybe it’s not supposed to be. But the idea of anniversaries, of celebrating a year of this, or a year of that, suddenly came into sharp focus for me today. I love birthdays because they celebrate someone’s existence, their literal presence on the planet. I love marking the time for friends who are one year sober, or two years healthy, or nine years happy living in a new city. There’s something deeply satisfying about marking another year.
Taking the reframe a little further, I thought about other increments of time, how weeks can stack up, or months, or even half years. How each of these means something deeper to the person doing the remembering, and the measuring how far they come, how they’ve healed and released and grown and developed. How they’ve survived.
And maybe I won’t wait another year to honor this person I’m so close to, or even the idea that two people can be as close as we are. Maybe I’ll celebrate tomorrow, or ten days from now, or two and a half months. The bottom line is to celebrate, no?