Life: 3.0.

February is here.  

With what hurried tenacity life rushes on.

As much as I try to keep things organized and simple, the chaos always sets in.  Best intensions of well-planned scientific execution always abandoned for the alchemy of chaos.  

Chaos breeds inspirations.

Best-laid plans are instead laid to waste.  And life, I think, is found not in the perfect order of a faultless filing cabinet, but by diving into the mess.  So whether you're surrounded by coffee cups and scattered papers in your favorite coffee shop, 

or by a tower of PBRs in your favorite dive bar, 

life comes in the living, not the planning.  

Those are my wise words for this week.  I turn 30 in four days.  FOUR DAYS.  And I've decided to forgive myself for being 30.  I've got to thwart the real feeling of guilt that comes from who-knows-where that sometimes leaves me thinking "am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing?  Have I lived enough life in 30 years?  What have I missed out on?" But I left the classroom curriculum and the pre-ordained grading scale many years ago, and one of the real benefits of living in my generation, and one real gift from parents and teachers who raised me to have free thought, is that I don't have to measure my life against anyone else's.  

I have been born and bred and sent daily into the world with the understanding that my independence and originality and interpretation is worthy and wonderful.  I just forget it from time to time.

And isn't it the most empowering realization, to see that what you once thought was broken isn't really unusable... it's beautiful.

So, 30, you shall not be characterized by anxiety and worry and self-recrimination.  

You will be fabulous.

And flirty.  

  Gorgeous.

Graceful.

Fun.

Wild.

Chaotic.

 

And full, to the brim, to the spilling point, to the absolute max... of inspiration.