In four days, I turn myself over to the sweet age of 37. My birthday is 03/07, so something feels a bit kismet or divine to be aligned with my age. To know me is to know that I thoroughly enjoy getting older. I lean into the utility of age in that our years can possess little hills of knowledge. For some who have really gone through it, maybe they are more like mountains. Experience and seeing and doing — existing is quite magical. Being a parent shows me this, thankfully.

What do I want to gift myself this year? Tangibly, it’s getting a little crunchier with inner work. I have scheduled my first reiki and chakra session. After hearing about another good friends experience with it, I figured why not? I quite literally do not know what to expect, but I do know that I’m serious about it. I told my girlfriend the other week I need someone to help guide me to a good cry session. So, for 90 minutes, I will sit fully-clothed as healing hands act as waves over my fluffy frame. Will report back.

Speaking of fluffy: oh, to be postpartum. Another girlfriend and I chat back and forth about our postpartum bodies, having both given birth in 2025. From our odd hair growth, to rag-tag-sag, to an undeniable acknowledgement of glory to our bodies that create and sustain life. Thirty-seven with a seven-month-old! Look at me!

In this new year, I hope to carve out more time for writing. My reading has picked up over the past year, and I want that to mirror in my writing, too. This usually means that I need to avoid The Sucks of social media. A recent Thread I came across simply said, “We’re in another wave of atrocity. And your first instinct is to scroll so you can feel nothing. Just notice that.” Oy. As someone whose appetite is ravenous for more information, this one was on the nose. I think I gather because it makes me feel like I know and, therefore, feel safe. In reality, I am just numbing out with overload.

So, yeah, perhaps I’ll work on that one this year.

Thirty-seven. It just feels nice to say that; a brag-worthy age. My sister-in-law used to send a card with a quote every year based on ages. (She stopped when they were seemingly too depressing.) So instead let’s just go with a quote I read recently from the (very dead) German satirical physicist, Georg C. Lichtenberg:

“I am convinced we do not only love ourselves in others, but hate ourselves in others, too.”

YOWZA! Munch on that one.

xo