Last night was easily the most important birthday in my life because it was the first one where I was myself. Not by myself, I was surrounded by people who have become over years, in some cases, the people who show up. There is a long sordid story about where “people show up” comes from involving peach moonshine and shenanigans years ago but the phrase has become something of a touchstone for me because of what it symbolizes with respect to friendship. When you need them, people show up. And they did.

The last week of the break has been really unexpectedly wonderful for a lot of reasons but mostly because I’ve been able to begin to express myself in ways that I haven’t been, with freedom and ease and natural flow that makes me excited about the future. The bright spot at the end of the tunnel is getting closer and I can feel the breeze on the other end. Anyway, I had a great group of people in my space last night and while I can begin to share how much it meant, I can’t fully express the fullness that I felt when I looked around my tiny house and saw 12 or 13 people, my children and a table full of things people brought and the thought that these people are here because they matter and I matter to them. No ego here at all, I got rid of that years ago, but the amount of compassion in the room was amazing.

I build a fire last night in the firepit in the backyard and we all gathered around, the roar of Carroll Blvd on the other side of the fence, the glare of the traffic lights and all one had to do was turn around and see the glowing faces in the firelight to know that this was a special gathering. None of us are perfect but we are here. After the fire, I brought my guitar out, Sophie brought out her violin, and I had a chance to play for some dear friends and family and my daughter had a chance to share her burgeoning love of the violin. It was very sweet.

I’m going to go run but I really appreciate the time that people took to show up.