Today I learned that turning 21 is one of the best birthdays you can have. Not only is everyone extra nice to you because it is your birthday, but there is the underlying knowledge (and acceptance) that you will most likely be non-functioning for the remainder of the week.
And the fact that you can stop creeping around the liquor store and bumming pitchers off friends.
I must admit, I’m quite awful at being consistent with these day to day posts.
Let’s start with Friday. What did I gain from Friday? Just the fact that no matter how hard I try, I will never be the type of person who can have five different types of alcohol and expect smooth sailing through the night. Oh well.
Saturday (yesterday) was certainly different than Friday. I didn’t necessarily “learn” anything, but simply reaffirmed something I have been learning throughout my life, which is this: I love working with my hands. I love physical labor. I love being outside with the sun on my back, dirt on my hands. It is here where I lose myself, where it doesn’t matter if you look like a completely hot mess (figuratively and literally), but that you can successfully operate a chainsaw and spread compost without losing a limb (and your mind).
And it isn’t simply enough to work with your hands, but to use them for others. To help anyone you can, like a young couple starting their first farm in the heart of Arkansas. I looked out over their property yesterday and laughed to myself, because over the rolling hills sat not only the barren stands of trees but barren fracture pads flanking left and right, a juxtaposition between new life and broken dreams. And I knew that my work here with the earth was good.
Sunday has yet to reveal its great secret, but that is alright. Sunday may bring no more new knowledge than the fact that it is the beginning of a new week.