iLiza's eyes

I dreamed a lot last night.

I dreamed about Peer Health Exchange. I dreamed about journalism. I dreamed about everything that's been consuming me for the past three years. And even though I don't think I slept that well--because I was dreaming and if you wake up and remember your dreams, that means that you probably weren't sleeping so well--I woke up feeling rejuvenated. I woke up feeling truly awake. I woke up feeling good, and inspired, and like all I wanted to do was write and organize and...and drive on.

I turned 22 years old over night, exactly 9 hours ago. But maybe I just now woke up. Maybe 22 years after I was born, I truly awakened. Because for some reason today, because of my dreams, because of whatever it was, I feel like I can do anything. And for once, I don't feel paralyzed by that feeling. Maybe it's just a coincidence that this just so happened to me on my birthday; but I'm 22 years old and for the first birthday since I turned 18, I don't really feel so old. I don't feel old; I feel strong. Isn't that weird? I feel strong.

When I turned 11, I remember being in my den and Uncle Tom sitting on the couch and holding up all ten of his fingers and saying "Wow, I can't hold your age with just two hands, I need more fingers." I always remember that because I think that was the first time I really started to feel...age. And I started to understand that as each day went by, I was filling up more and more fingers. And those fingers, well those fingers symbolized less time that I had left.

Last night, at 12:00 when my frist called to say happy birthday, I told her that story, and I said "I'm 22, I'm twice as old as I was that day when Uncle Tom held up his 10 fingers and said I had grown out of just two hands."

I'm twice as old as that. And if I'm lucky enough to live to 88, I'm 1/4 of the way there. My dad used to say that as you get older, the years feel faster because each year, or each finger, is a smaller percentage of your life; so that one year when you're 5 is 1/5 of your life, but a year when you're 22 is 1/22 of your life, and when your 88, it's 1/88 of your life.

And so each year is going faster I guess. For that reason, I thought I would wake up this morning feeling depressed, feeling like I didn't know what I was doing or where I was going. Feeling old, wrinkly maybe.

Instead I feel motivated. And this day will be shorter than yesterday, because it's a smaller percentage of my life. And this year will go faster than last year. But perhaps I'm running now. Perhaps I'm running because I realize that I'm running out of time, and that everyday is going to matter more and more.

posted by iliza @ 4:52 PM