A Saturday Spiel

Luck is such a subjective little token, but when the stars are aligned and the universe gives you a happy week, it's worth ticking off small fortunes on one hand and thanking the gods for summer breezes and enchanting sunsets.

Today's thunderstorm, for example, was riveting with torrential spring downpours and a crackling sky. Dashing into the grocery store for rabbit food and coconut oil, I was immediately soaked and thrilled by a small rainy adventure.

 

Because what is life, if not a series of moments (said so nicely by Matt Damon in Dogma). String them together and you have yourself a story. Throw that story between the folds of a book and you have yourself an autobiography. 

Stamp it, date it, sign it, earn it---just make it count, because that's the only way to wake up each morning and want to see what the next day has in store.

So in trying to live the way I believe we all should live, I've spent the early throes of summer hiking, trail-running, baseball-game-watching, sidewalk-chalking and duckpond-frequenting.

I have certain routines established that I wouldn't change for the world. Every morning after I drop Topaz off at Kindergarten, I stop up my ears with the sounds of iPod bliss and spend 30 minutes jogging around Liberty Park. 

I then stretch on a hill near the baby ducks and ride a euphoric wave of endorphins and cool breezes while my favorite tracks pound with drums that echo everything inside of me that pulses.

After that, it's a mix of work or school or mom-ness, but the addictions of Instagram and thrift-shopping find their way into the few moments that I have to disappear into the quiet places of my head.

And this week has been the best. Topaz and I hiked the City Creek Trail on Thursday night. We picked up potato bugs and took pictures of scary beetles. We watched how the sun lit up the mountain flowers and listened for blue jays in the trees. Then we came home and made s'mores on my patio. When I tucked Topaz in bed, she smelled like campfire and chocolate.

I feel like a broken record when I say that life isn't perfect, but I make the best of it. I think achieving happiness under daunting circumstances is an even bigger accomplishment than smiling through a fairy-tale privileged existence.

I've WORKED for my small Utopia and that feels better than flitting through luxury and fortune without comprehension of the percentage of the population that significantly struggles. My empathy is positively overflowing for the people experiencing heartbreak and devastation. 

But in the grand scheme of things, the only thing that really matters is Topaz. I can better myself so that she's affected by the positive change, but the more I focus on HER the more I'm satisfied with my role in life.

It's no wonder that on the weekends when she's with her dad, I'm a bit lost. 

I used to play a lot on Saturdays and Sundays, but now I'd rather come home after work, light a candle, watch a movie, cuddle with my cat.

And really, she's worth every sacrifice I make. Sweet little Topie is so bright and funny and wondrous and alive. I like the fact that she's so innocent, lacking the jaded outlook adults so often have. At 6 she's already extremely artistic and creative. She's knowledgeable and responsible with animals. She's concerned with conservation and carbon footprints. And she has that demeanor of those with an "old soul."

 Maybe that's why I'm suddenly so content as a mom---because with Topaz, I at least feel as though I've done something right.

And in order to KEEP doing things right, I've set some small goals for myself. It's recently become apparent that I'm now afraid of heights. In terms of baby-steps, next week I'm going to make my first appearance at a climbing gym. In the hands of professionals and safety nets, I'm going to face my fear and stop with this fragility I've adopted since my fall.

Since we're talking bucket-lists here, the goal is to conquer rock climbing this year and surfing next year. I've already broken my neck, so I figure the odds of being eaten by a shark are very slim for this decade. For past, present and future, I think the best parts of living are the challenges.