Today is Saturday, September 3rd. Two days until my birthday. Two days until I turn 32.
Most people, it seems, see 30 as a seminal birthday. My 30th birthday was less than a month before my wedding, so I had other things on my mind. Besides, 30 has never been as much of a landmark to me as 32. To understand why, we have to go back a few years . . . 19, to be precise.
7th grade. Junior high. I'm in Mr. Crull's math class at Sioux Center Christian. A few decades before THAT, Mr. Crull himself was in high school, and his basketball jersey number was--you guessed it--32. It became his favorite number. Years later, as a math teacher, he created math problems that used the number 32 incessantly. Use your imagination. Suffice it say that when I was in the 7th grade, 32 was a number I detested. Enough, already, Mr. Crull!!
But then 8th grade rolled around. I still had Mr. Crull for math. And he still used the number 32 . . . again, and again, and again. And I was just too tired to spend my energy hating that number. I figured, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
The rest is history.
So, for the past 18 years, this beautiful, balanced, elegant number has been a part of who I am. I am A Person Whose Favorite Number is 32. I am a 32-Lover. I feel much affection for this number that keeps showing up in my life in myriad unexpected ways (but always, always, the number of ways is a product of 32 . . . or has a 32 in it . . . or is related to 32 in some way. ALWAYS).
When I talked to my parents this past week, they mentioned that they had had the opportunity to talk to the Crulls. And apparently my impending 32nd birthday came up, and the fact that this birthday is an important one. Funny how everything comes back around.
So, in two days, I turn 32. I'm excited, but a little nervous. Turning 32 feels like a lot of pressure. Pressure to make this year special, to make it different, to somehow manage to do all the thousands of things I have been wanting (and meaning) to do for years. Write a novel. Have an essay or three published. Succeed brilliantly in being the new editor of the Montana Naturalist magazine. Do yoga regularly. Run regularly. Travel to some exotic place I've never visited before (Uganda? Crete? Svalbard?). Study a new language (or learn a formerly-studied one better). And the list goes on . . .
Instead of feeling pressure, though, I want to feel freedom. The wild wonder of being that magical age, of embodying that magical number 32. What can I do with this year? What can I begin? What can I accomplish? Perhaps, just perhaps, turning 32 will be the motivation I need to embark on a new venture (or seven, or--wait for it--32). What wonders will this year hold? I am so looking forward to finding out.
Most people, it seems, see 30 as a seminal birthday. My 30th birthday was less than a month before my wedding, so I had other things on my mind. Besides, 30 has never been as much of a landmark to me as 32. To understand why, we have to go back a few years . . . 19, to be precise.
7th grade. Junior high. I'm in Mr. Crull's math class at Sioux Center Christian. A few decades before THAT, Mr. Crull himself was in high school, and his basketball jersey number was--you guessed it--32. It became his favorite number. Years later, as a math teacher, he created math problems that used the number 32 incessantly. Use your imagination. Suffice it say that when I was in the 7th grade, 32 was a number I detested. Enough, already, Mr. Crull!!
But then 8th grade rolled around. I still had Mr. Crull for math. And he still used the number 32 . . . again, and again, and again. And I was just too tired to spend my energy hating that number. I figured, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
The rest is history.
So, for the past 18 years, this beautiful, balanced, elegant number has been a part of who I am. I am A Person Whose Favorite Number is 32. I am a 32-Lover. I feel much affection for this number that keeps showing up in my life in myriad unexpected ways (but always, always, the number of ways is a product of 32 . . . or has a 32 in it . . . or is related to 32 in some way. ALWAYS).
When I talked to my parents this past week, they mentioned that they had had the opportunity to talk to the Crulls. And apparently my impending 32nd birthday came up, and the fact that this birthday is an important one. Funny how everything comes back around.
So, in two days, I turn 32. I'm excited, but a little nervous. Turning 32 feels like a lot of pressure. Pressure to make this year special, to make it different, to somehow manage to do all the thousands of things I have been wanting (and meaning) to do for years. Write a novel. Have an essay or three published. Succeed brilliantly in being the new editor of the Montana Naturalist magazine. Do yoga regularly. Run regularly. Travel to some exotic place I've never visited before (Uganda? Crete? Svalbard?). Study a new language (or learn a formerly-studied one better). And the list goes on . . .
Instead of feeling pressure, though, I want to feel freedom. The wild wonder of being that magical age, of embodying that magical number 32. What can I do with this year? What can I begin? What can I accomplish? Perhaps, just perhaps, turning 32 will be the motivation I need to embark on a new venture (or seven, or--wait for it--32). What wonders will this year hold? I am so looking forward to finding out.
Love! The picture is fantabulous, of course. Sending you birthday love. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd honestly, I never knew that Mr. Crull's jersey number was 32. I thought he was just kinda nerdy!
I echo Andrea -- Love! and I love the photo too -- reminds me of one of my favorite quotes (forgive me for not recalling the source!) "Arise, go forth, and conquer!" Praying that whatever blessings and challenges this year you are 32 brings, you will live it abundantly!
ReplyDeleteHope you had a fabulous birthday! Sounds like 32 will be a great year for you. :)
ReplyDelete