“I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable and beautiful and afraid of nothing as though I had wings.”~ Mary Oliver

2013.  What will you have for me.  What will you take?  What will you give?  What will you grow and what will you harvest?  Perhaps it is my negative underbelly that thinks it is perhaps futile to dream and hope.  However, it is my true nature to be cheerful and hopeful (my name even means Cheerful).  I cant help but feel myself pulled to the surface for a breath of air, for the hope of the sky.

Myself and the mister find ourselves in our 4th decade.  Our 30′s.  We celebrated fashionably with whiskey, axe throwing, pie and venison chili, glow in the dark hula hoops and squirt guns.  That’s the only proper way, really.

In light of this past year, experiences and perhaps just the inner wild that I’ve always known was there, I feel myself standing back to let the true and uninhibited ‘self’ come shining through.  More passion and zeal.  More risk and chancing.  It feels good to be charging forward, knowing that if we don’t run towards those things we hold dear, than they may just slip away.  Sand.  We all hold sand, cupped in our hands.  Our life is just grains of sand.  The harder we try to hold on, the easier it is for a crack to appear and for it all to drain out.  Perhaps it is better to toss it in the air and dance in the falling glitter and enjoy it for how brief it is.

There is an internal battle waging inside me.  The battle of fear and the peace of letting go.  Either way, I have very little control of what lies ahead in these days.  It is perhaps my naive and childishness that wills me to squeeze the goodness from each breath.  I want to taste victory and joy.  I want to participate in the gifts of this life.  The way I see it, I could chose to cower and hide away, or to burst open the doors and say ‘BRING IT’, and either way, the cards will fall as they may.  I might as well enjoy this.

Not to say I will turn a blind eye to suffering and pain, but I refuse to let darkness tie me down.  I can mourn and still be passionate for my dreams.  I can let tears fall while I struggle to gain wisdom and a better grip on my full potential.

This year.. I hope that in my 30th year (actually my 31st if we’re being technical) I want to learn that balance of grace and of holding my head high.  I hope to learn better how to be delicate and unmoving.  To be gentle with an unwavering gaze.

And I want goats.  If I could get a goat and name her Mildred, that would be the cherry.

My birthday hula hoop with the magical 3-D glasses that turn light sources into ‘hearts’.  Who says you have to get serious when you turn 30?  Not me.