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Two years ago and a bit, I read a blog post by my dear friend Khayyam.  It touched me, very deeply.  It spoke about being grateful for the losses and the death in your life.  About how experiencing those things can help you in appreciating the joys that you have been blessed with.  Two years ago, I needed to read that.

This evening, I re-read the post.

I was reading the comments and had forgotten that I had commented on it.  I re-read my own comment and smiled, because I felt exactly the same way about it now that I did then.  It was – and is – an awesome post.

You should really go and read it.

I also re-read Khayyam’s reply to my comment.
And took a very deep breath.
And felt tears come to my eyes.

He said something to me that he has said in the past, that I understood, but that I don’t think I ever felt in the way that it should have been felt before tonight…

…you’ve been the most wonderful reflection to view myself through…

My mind had always understood what Khayyam meant by that, but my heart finally also understood it tonight.

I don’t think that I could have truly understood what a compliment that was until I had someone in my life who is the most wonderful reflection to view myself through.  Someone who has shown me what he sees in me, and has me looking into the same reflection of me that he sees.

I am grateful.

I am so grateful to Khayyam for sharing his blog with the world.

I am and always will be so deeply and fiercely grateful to Dean for being the reflection through which I see myself now.

What a smile that reflection shows me.

Thank you.

Today and every day forever and always.

GPSM

Ten years ago, as I was sitting at work glued to a television with my two coworkers, the world changed.

Irrevocably.

In the days that followed, I was in the midst of many conversations about the events of that day, but one of them stuck out in my mind more than any of the others.

I was emailing back and forth with a close friend in the states, and was attempting to express the level of pain and loss that I was feeling. I recall her reply as if I was just reading her email now for the first time…

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about. You’re Canadian. They attacked us, not you.”

In retrospect, this single statement was the beginning of the end of our friendship. That sentiment, in it’s simplicity, expressed a selfish short-sightedness that – unfortunately – I wasn’t all that surprised to hear from her. Over the next few weeks, our friendship dwindled to non-existent.

The attacks on September 11th occurred in the United States, but the effects, the pain, the confusion… those things did not have borders. As we all sat watching the events unfold that day, we were not citizens of our countries, we were citizens of our planet.

In the weeks that followed, I sent my Canadian prayers around the world.
I watched as the world prayed for… the world.

In the decade that has followed 9-11, there have been changes in the way the planet sees.

Our collective eyes have been opened to the fact that we are not bound by borders; we never have been. What hurts one of us, hurts the rest of us. When we cry, we do not cry alone. What makes one of us stronger, serves to make the planet stronger. And when we – as a global community – help each other heal, we are powerful medicine.

I have kept my eyes open.

I hope that we all have.

Tell me and I’ll forget. Show me and I may not remember.Involve me and I’ll understand.
— Native American Proverb

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?

It’s an interesting question, this one.

I really never think about my age that much. Sure, I think about it when it gets close to my birthday and my best friend starts hassling me about getting old. I think about it when I wake up a little sore from doing things that didn’t used to cause me any issues at all.

And no, I don’t mean getting a little tipsy.
(I’ve never woken up feeling good after that.)

That’s just the thing. If I decided that tomorrow was a great day to go skiing, I’d do it. Why not? Unless you count the constant falling on my ass as a reason why not. Which I might do, but only in retrospect as I nursed sore muscles and a bruised ass. And ego.

Most of the reason that I don’t think about my age is that my mom never seemed to take hers into consideration. She was ageless to me. She was, at once, a child and an old woman. She had the singular ability to be all ages at once. Mom could go from giving you the wisdom of years far beyond her, to sticking a sign on your back with an arrow pointing to your ass and the word “farting”.

No.
I did not make that up.

It’s hard to completely ‘grow-up’ when you have a parental figure like that. And I’m damn grateful for her influence on me, too. I like that I’m not really a grown-up. I like that I can still hang out on the floor and play with barbies. I like that I can kick any kid’s ass in whatever video game happens to be the choice of the day. And I like that I can still be just as enraptured by Dr. Seuss when I read it now as I was when it was read to me so many years ago.

I know adults that don’t even know what playing is anymore.
I never wanted to be like that.

I made plans today to go out and throw ninja stars. In fact, I’ll take that a step further. I made plans to have a whole lot of good and completely childlike good times. Please note that I did not call them ‘childish’, because I think that as an adult, if you do not remember to be childlike, you can never truly be adultlike.

Everything in life is about balance.

You can’t know hot if you don’t know cold.
You can’t know happiness unless you have felt despair.

And you can’t understand what being a grown-up is all about unless you experience the unfettered joys of being childlike. You have to practice at being joyful. You have to make time to play. And you must always remember that there are things that children can teach us better than anyone else.

Just to be clear?

None of this is to say that I appreciate grey hair.

Just sayin’.

The current challenge is brought to you by myself, and the ever delightful Chrissa over yonder at A Little Wicked. The Challenge questions are pilfered from Marc and Angel Hack Life, and their stellar list of 50 Questions That Will Free Your Mind. We hope you enjoy the posts, and if you’d like to take part, the questions are yours to answer.