day thirty: passports

When I was growing up, I used to imagine that I lived in a split ranch that was built exactly on the border between the U.S. and Canada. My parent's bedroom would be in one country and mine in the other. I'd have autonomy but would still be close enough to cross the border to their room if I had a bad dream.

I feel the same split today on my birthday, now that I've actually entered my thirties. I want a lifeline back into my twenties, but I'm choosing the best sort of autonomy--the kind with the people I love being right there, offering prayer and support, with me reciprocating. Instead of boxing what I could have accomplished so far into a corner closet, I'm learning how to age with intention.

Like you, I have this simple urge to love the people in my life, and to become more like grain or milk--something that can nourish.