Fleeting Moments at 40

Yesterday was a sunny warm day after so many long and snowy ones, so I decided to take my two youngest on a walk after school across a pedestrian bridge with beautiful views of the Ohio River and the two waterfront cities that connect over it. It would have been great for my oldest to have also joined us, but she had her first ever job training and needed to try out a different city bus route than her usual. Our walk started off really well. The waterfront area was full of people, ready for this little glimpse of spring. Bikes, roller skates, strollers, runners, dogs, kids, everyone out and about. We walked and chatted, fully taking in the unusual warmth. The ice cream and boba spots were closed, so we decided to go for the hibachi and sushi restaurant that also has boba. My kids had a little bit of a tough time sitting and showing restaurant manners, but things were going well and the food was good. I can’t pinpoint the point of transition, but suddenly I found myself in a flustered s...

I’ve always loved poetry I’ve always written poetry I’ve even performed poetry But it never felt prestigious enough to keep doing Those who write novels and memoirs are the real writers, each word crafted carefully. How else does it reach you? And, anyway, aren’t there too many people in the world now for me to have anything to give? Poetry says there’s always something to give.

  February 23, 2025 Good food, good company, good coffee. Sometimes, that’s all it takes to lift you out of your daily grind and allow you to be in the moment, to feel like the person that you know you are. Gifs via texts with friends who need no words, impromptu virtual dance parties with my far away tribe, coffee flights at an aesthetically pleasing Nepalese-inspired cafe while also being there when things aren't so bright. I want to find more time and appreciation for all of it. All of it is life. It's taken me to a shockingly long time to adjust to being so far away from the only place I ever called home. Lots of awkward moments of doubt and unease. Was this really the right move? Wearing my heart on my sleeve and oversharing, crying as walls came down, feeling raw and vulnerable as I entered a new season in my life with strangers, feeling seen and heard and valued in ways that I did not expect. This is starting to feel like home now.

Originally February 16, 2025 Yesterday we got just enough snow to leave a light coating on just about everything and it was breathtaking.  A winter wonderland. I felt grateful and ungrateful all at the same time, hyper aware of the ways in which I complain and the ways in which I stop and take beautiful moments in.  

  Originally February 12, 2025 Wintry suburban numbness coupled with a bad case of the 40's. Stagnant, between worries for your children and worries for your parents. Holding space for what ails us. Dis-eases of the mind, body, and spirit. In the midst, bills here and there, closing in, making the air more difficult to inhale. Pandemic, baby, move, inflation, disorientation. Grieve. You listen closely to catch human words that resonate with you. My small talk with coworkers is to say that each day is a blur, I wake up and suddenly it's time for bed. She is filled with relief at the quick passing of time. He wakes up wanting it to be bedtime. We're all 40. So we smile. We keep our heads up. We keep trying. Whatever that means. And nothing feels like enough. Not moments that are picturesque to the masses, like dogs running around a yard while the kids jump in the trampoline, not the human connection that makes you sad because it's about the end and makes you longingly cra...

  Originally January 22, 2025 I want to be silly and laugh, but is there space for that?  Life feels too serious.  Even laughing is gone almost instantly. I remember belly laughing, tears rolling down my cheeks, not even 30 minutes into chatting with a stranger at a conference.  Just like that, the moment was gone.  We exchanged phone numbers, but what for?  The moment is gone.  It's a high that I chase and only truly find sometimes hidden in mounds of holding space and paying bills and being held in space.  I searched "funny" in Google photos. This is what came up.

  Originally January 15, 2025 Can a fleeting moment be one where you reminisce about a past fleeting moment?  Photos and photos and photos of people and places and nature and events.  I took them because I wanted to capture the moment, knowing that life would get mundane and we would want to look back.  I am this tree as it stands today, once green and then changing into beautiful colors before becoming bare, feeling each and every single passing wind through my branches, cold but standing, awaiting the spring.  Nothing satisfies me. Everything is mediocre. Except the spring.

  Originally January 11, 2025 We came home from errands to the sight of hundreds of robins flying from our neighbor's Christmas holly trees and our maple trees. Apparently robins feast on the berries in the Christmas holly tree during the wintertime when other food is scarce. I immediately took my phone out and started taking videos and pictures, but they didn't come out so great, except for this portrait of the berries. Maybe God was asking me to take advantage of this. I decided to sit on our back porch and watch the birds fly from tree to tree, sometimes resting, sometimes feasting. We let the dogs out and their barks sent the hundreds of birds flying. They would quickly return, perhaps remembering that dogs can't reach the heights that birds can. The sounds of the chirps and wings made it all feel calm and made me feel present in the moment. Now I'm considering getting a bird feeder and binoculars.

  I’m 40 and struggling to find something that makes me feel fulfilled, passionate, and joyful. I’m at that point. Reviewing my accomplishments and wondering where I can go next. I feel like I’m going through the motions, each moment fleeting. When I was younger, I felt fun moments deeply and the feeling seemed to last such a long time. Now, there seem to be moments of joy sprinkled into the heavy reality of adulting. Things like moving 800 miles away from family and friends with hopes of a better life for my children with the understanding that I could be far away when my elderly dad passed away. And that’s exactly how it happened. He passed away while I was far away. I’m left navigating grief and changing family dynamics while also processing culture shock, finding new friends with newfound social anxiety uncommon for an extrovert like me, and finding what grounds me in this new season and in this new city. I feel unsatisfied, merely content with what I know I should not take for...