Yesterday Was My 40th Birthday


Yesterday was my 40th birthday.

I woke up before sunrise and sat cross-legged staring out my studio window.

The sun does amazing things when you can barely see it. At 4:36am the sky becomes so translucent that if you squint hard enough you’ll notice Heaven unfolding like a linen tablecloth.

But this is how I know the sacred.
Through color, luminosity, and mystery.
Through veils that fray as they slide over the passage of time.
Through my right hand as it reaches for my paintbrush —
While my left softly massages the muscles in the back of my neck.

I didn’t bother to shuffle through my paint box in search of the tube I really wanted. Instead I splashed water over the darkest blue in my set and dragged the pigment across the paper.

Because no matter how hard I try — no matter how many years I practice — I’ll never capture the essence that pours outside my window.  Though I wasn’t born to explore the secrets written behind the stars — I best be grateful for the gifts that spill into my heart.

Like the sunrise,
my little boy in onesie pajamas,
the way my husband’s love keeps growing with time,
and how my body naturally aligns with the moon’s sweet rhythm.

Yes, yesterday was my 40th birthday.

I didn’t make a fuss or even buy a new journal.

Though while the sun blessed another day,
I stepped into a new decade
with only my paintbrushes
and a humble wish to learn how to surrender.

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