While I’ve long said numbers aren’t my thing, I’ve realized over
time that might not actually be the case. Music and dancing involve numbers.
Cooking, too. And dates.
It’s been pointed out to me before that I use dates and timelines
when telling stories. “And that was at the end of 2012,” or, “…on the next day,
which was a Thursday, which was the 2nd…” and so on. Strange, maybe...it’s
just how my mind works.
Last summer I was curious about something so I sat down to
do some counting and figure it out. I'm glad I took the time to do it. When it showed up on my calendar yesterday
I became a bit emotional.
Throughout the day yesterday I saw things differently, thought about my life and the people in it. Was, and am, overcome with gratitude thinking about how things have fallen into place.
One of the very first posts I ever wrote, over ten and a
half years ago, had to do with where I’m from, with comparing New York with
Utah. In that post I said, “After almost nine years of living here, I can be
from Utah now.”
It’s not that my views have changed. In fact, I love Utah
more now than I did then. I still catch my breath at the views here, the
mountains, the sunsets. I love Provo, I really do; it’s not a very popular
thing to do so I become defensive of my city. I love Salt Lake, too; countless
times I’ve been asked, “Why don’t you just move there? You’re up there all the
time.”
What’s changed, or at least become more clear, is not just
that Utah is my home, but that New York is also my home. Provo and Busti, Salt
Lake and Jamestown. Corners of Manhattan, sections of San Diego, and hundreds
of places in between. Turns out, not where but who you’re with that really matters.
2 comments:
Beautiful thoughts! Happy New Year!
I like being with people like you. It's why Utah is home even if the Californian in me still hates the snow.
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