I have a secret. Two, actually. Let’s start at the beginning. Of when? Of whom?
Of me.
My birthday is this week. To the outside world, I am one of those insufferable people who hates attention. This day comes and goes without some of my best friends knowing its significance. I am quite fine with that.
But in my imaginary city things are different. After all, did I not creat a world based on the existence of my twenties? And how do I feel after one more year?
Friends, I have to tell you. I feel so so so good. This past year in my twenties came with a lot of clarity. And yet, if I look at my life, it is more ambiguous than ever. Perhaps clarity isn’t the right word. For my life is more chaotic than ever, and yet I have found an inner peace wholly unknown to myself in the most recent months.
This time it actually feels sustainable. Like a new foundation that has just been poured. And what is it that will be built? I suspect the friendships I have made in this imaginary city have a lot to do with these self revelations. I now look at this world differently. See things that were always there but went unnoticed.
I was in bed the other morning. It was early and I was asleep. That is, until a bird landed on my windowsill and serenaded me awake with its shrill calls. I looked out the window and the bird was looking at me. Or was it looking in me?
I was surprised to see him (for no lady bird could possibly sing that poorly). I was not aware that the birds had returned for the year. It felt too early. Why are you home so soon, Mr. Bird? And from where did you come? Can you tell me about those places? Who was there and what did you see?
Better yet, can I too go with you to those places? If not on your wings, on your words? Perhaps I can show you some places of my own. I will be waiting for you tomorrow morning. I shall hear your morning call. I will listen to your stories from which you came.
Oh. And about that other secret. This one is fun. Last month I finished my first novel.
pause for dramatic effect
Yes, the first draft is finished. But there is much much work to do. What is the book about, you ask? It is about you. And me. And anyone else that is searching for meaning and purpose and love and connection. Particularly for those that bear the weight of their ambiguous twenties. It is a second coming of age. The story of the Wandering Generation.
I don’t know what will come of it. Who knows if it will ever be read. But, oh how I miss those dark winter mornings. I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. I became the characters only to realize they were all parts of me the whole time. And when I got tired of writing I wrote here in this imaginary city for you, my very real friends.
Happy birthday! As I left for my run yesterday, Birthday by Anne Marie came on and I was like, damn what a vibe but it is actually your vibe. I hope you play it and follow her very specific instructions: "It's my birthday / I'ma do what I like / I'ma eat what I like / I'ma kiss who I like".
CONGRATULATIONS on your book. How amazingly exciting. I can't wait to read it. Would you share your writing schedule? I'm lucky enough to have created a work schedule that works around my writing needs but anxious about actually putting it into usage.
Love love love
Congratulations on the novel. I know it is a great feeling after such arduous work.