A boat pulls a teenage girl behind it on what looks like a surf board; it’s about 75 degrees, and the music being played is something I recognize. “Cause we only got one night, double your pleasure, double your fun, it’s going to be me, you and the dance floor.” It’s a laid-back, summer day, one I just had a cotton candy grape, and wow, that first bite really reminded me of the fluffy fair stuff.
With a whopping 100+ view day on my blog yesterday, up from my average of 12 views, the sudden surge of stress sent me into a mild existential crisis. Old thoughts of doubting myself and feelings of fraud, coupled with elevated expectations, and momentarily worry I’d tarnished the pure experience of me and the page.
But not to worry! I’ve grown too much to let a little angst keep me down.
And now ready to share lighter fare with you. Like when floating on a tube earlier alongside Dave, he questioned, “Did your new razor break?” Thinking he’d seen my safety razor in pieces at home, I quickly replied, “No, why?” Hoping nothing had happened. His glance was all I needed, and I understood. My furry lady legs told the tale; my mother likely had an affair with Sasquatch.
And I’m excited to share this with you! A question in the Four Agreements as a final test of how one could live their final week of life – from a place of fear or love – shifted me into a new mindset.
A party, a huge elfing party. Think a Gorge weekend campout. Bring your tent and stay on our property, stay up all night. Ride the slip n slide. Eat at one of several all-night and day food trucks. Archery, daisy chain making, human hillside log rolling competition. Of course, my friends and family would be invited, but also all my clients and their families. Eff confidentiality at that point, am I right? And you! Plus, I’m certain a lot of the people I know who don’t know each other would enjoy meeting and perhaps form relationships after I’m six feet under.
The next thing to do is assist Dave with evolving his idea that he’d “panic” for the final week of his life.
I told you I bought a bike, and well, today it arrived. After adjusting it for my long legs, I got on and sped around the driveway. The thrill of air rushing over my body and face gave my belly a wee feeling, like a kiddie ride at the fair. But then! I pushed a small black lever that changed my barely-make-it-up-a-hill mode to blast off. The pedal-assist, electric bike mode is killer! And for $400, I think this fun mobile was an excellent choice.
Well, it’s a still and quiet night in our little slice of heaven on this great big planet. Besides Evelyn’s plastic wheels scraping against the cement on the driveway and Archie’s too-long nails clicking on the deck, oh, and now the lady next door commanding her dog something like “Out” repeatedly, there’s nothing else to hear.
If I haven’t told you already, wait until after the sun goes down or before the sun comes up to water your lawn.
As always, take care, and I love you.
Jaclynn
Going On 40 