Last year I turned another year older while sitting on a balcony in a small Italian town on the coast – just me, the moon, and a shocking amount of peace. Nervous about spending a day that had always involved the gathering and surrounding of family, I had chosen to spend it on my own – traveling, experiencing, and taking a risk.
It was in that moment, as I watched the moon rise and reflect the most magical twinkle on the surface of the sea, that I decided birthdays – from now on – called for adventure. It didn’t matter exactly where I went or what specifically I was doing, but I vowed that I’d be doing something that makes my heart beat a little faster – that strikes a sense of wonder, excitement, and even a little discomfort from within. Something that well… makes me feel even just an ounce more alive than I did yesterday – a reminder of how much of a gift it is to be hopping on for another trip around the sun.
This city never fails to offer all three.
So, this time around, I traded that Italian balcony for an upper west side apartment and belly laughed my way into the year of 23. Not a bad way to start if I do say so myself… Surrounded by good people – the very best actually.
And as I sit here sipping my first coffee (of many for the day, as 3 days in the city calls for 12 hours of combined sleep..) I’m feeling whole again – joyous actually. Full of inspiration and new stories to add to the ever continuing storybook of life. Entirely, immensely, and wholeheartedly grateful, thankful, and everything in between.
