Yes, it is true.

I have another birthday coming up.

Lots of folks have been asking how this day will be celebrated.

The answer is simple….it won’t.

It isn’t that I don’t think birthdays aren’t special–they are for some folks. Its just that I don’t treat my own birthday as different from any other day. I take the day off from work because, well meaning as they are, parties with cake and such make me vaguely uncomfortable. I don’t like being the center of attention that way.

Here’s the deal. Isn’t EVERY day special? After all, it isn’t like we are promised any given day. Each one is a gift because we might not have risen to see the dawn of that particular day at all. Under that theory, EVERY day should be celebrated.

I’m probably not the only person who doesn’t own a set of china just for ’special occasions’. I don’t have certain clothing put back for ‘big dates’, or certain perfumes that I only wear on rare occasions. Who is to say that those special occasions, big dates, or rare occasions will ever happen? If they don’t…then what happens to all of those things that were put back for just that moment? Why not use them now? Why not treat EVERY day as special?

So yes, I have a birthday coming up…and it is just another ordinary day.

Because, after all….aren’t ALL days special if we make them that way?

arkmomy

You are my hero.

No matter what you think…

No matter what you see when you look in the mirror…

You do not have to agree….you do not have to accept…

It is what it is.

You think that I am weird…not quite within the norm…and maybe a little silly for saying this.

After all, when you look in the mirror, you only see you. It is the same you that stares back every time you look. You don’t see how you could possibly be all that special. Eyes, hair, nose, chin, lips….they look the same to you as they always have. They are familiar to you…and far from ordinary in your opinion.

Since you cannot possibly see from my eyes, allow me to show you what I see when I look at you…

Your eyes have seen so much. There is courage and wisdom there that belies your young age. They are the eyes of someone who has known fear, overcome hardship, and found a comfort that works for you. Even when your mouth is quiet, your eyes speak volumes. In a single glance, they convey a spark of anger, a smile of derision over the stupidity of others, or the glint of humor. They are more accustomed to looking through others rather than at them. What sometimes seems to indicate antisocial tendencies and snobbery is often simply a defense mechanism honed from the need to protect yourself.

Your mouth doesn’t speak much. You have made a life out of keeping your own council. This only makes those things that you do say that much more important to those that love you. It is worth the world just to see your lips curve into a slight smile.

Ah…and your brain. You don’t think highly of it, but I do. You laugh when I call you smart…but sometimes smart has less to do with book learnings than life learnings. Your brain is one of my favourite parts of what makes you who you are.

Is it these things that make you a hero? No.

What makes you a hero is that part of you that is hidden the deepest. In and of itself, it defines who you are.

You share it, but with caution.

It is okay, most people do that very thing…at least the smart ones do. But in spite of everything, this part of you has a propensity for kindness and generosity far exceeding that of many hearts in the world today. It is this part of you that draws others to you. It is this part of you that brings comfort and warmth into the coldest of my days and makes me smile in spite of myself. It is the part of you that makes you my hero.

Surprised? You shouldn’t be.

Every time I want to hide, you draw me out without speaking so much as a single word.

When I am lonely, it is you that I miss.

And when things go wrong and I need a friend, it is your hand that I hold…even if it is only in my head.

You care for those that I love…even if you’ve never met them before.

And when I am excited and happy…you are the first one with whom I want to share the feeling.

So…yeah…you are my hero.

..and you don’t have to agree…

…you don’t have to accept.

It is what it is.

…and I hope it never changes.

arkmomy

My desk has moved.

There was a time when I would have (and did) refused to even consider moving my workspace. After all, the other cubby was cozy, well-organized, and peaceful, and familiar. Being a creature who appreciates stability, I was not inclined to leave the security of my old home. However, my bosses have found a use for my obsessive-compulsive attention to detail and decided that I can handle a few more reports. With that responsibility came the need for space to put hard-copy and reference materials…it was time for a change.

I have spent most of this week shuffling materials from the old cubby to the new one. This new cubby is secluded, cozy…and yet quite larger than the last one. This is a good thing because I had no idea exactly how much ’stuff’ I’d managed to cram into the old cubby. There is twice the counterspace here, three times as many drawers, and even a bookshelf over the top to hold my refrence materials. I can actually access files in the drawer without having to remove contents…this is pretty freakin’ cool!

As if that weren’t enough, the new cubby came complete with a new pc. It has more than twice the RAM of the old one and a neato flat-panel monitor that uses very little space. Safe to say, it is a lot like a sports car….small, fast, cute…and tons of fun.

So, here I am. Comfortably ensconced in my new little corner of the world with everything that I need to work right at my fingertips. Taking a deep breath, I think of how I was so very opposed to the mere thought of moving…of changing. There will surely be times when change is not necessairly good…but this isn’t one of those times.

arkmomy