Happy SPRING! How I’ve longed for the start of one full season of renewal in bloom.
4/10(0): Today is April 10, also the 100th day of 2022, and the 22nd day of Spring since starting Sunday, March 20. For me, it's also 100 full days free from the mindless scroll. Positively lifechanging in all the best ways imaginable is a complete understatement. I feel free as ever here, now. Truly! Frida's a fan, too. Full attention, no distractions. This is bliss.
Remember when we were kids, and the 100th day of the year was this grand moment of celebratory all-things-100 at school? Let's take it back for a blip down memory lane...
100 pennies, or cents (sense?), equals 1 dollar.
100 dollars can buy one fairly nice, casual dinner date for two.
100 dinners can feed for one season. (Technically, every season lasts ~89 to 94 days.)
100 seasons make 25 years of Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, the last being the longest of all 4 in one year.
Spring finally rolls around (as it has! Yay!) after what feels like 100 years of one winter, and with it, this grand season of rebirth and renewal.
Earth starts to show itself revitalize again as buds begin to dot the bare-bone tree branches. Flowers bloom as birds sing their songs all day long, happy to feel alive again.
Welcome, Spring!
So long, Winter. So long.
265 days remain in 2022. What will we do to make them larger than life? My proposed suggestion is much simpler than one might imagine: Be here now.
Put the phones down. Soak up the golden honey warmth of the bright Sun.
Let’s make the most of this momentous magic.
As for me now, in less than 3 months, I’ll be 33!
Until then, here I stay centered smack dab in the middle of twelve + 52. Total number of months & weeks both to each make up a year, here I stand looking back at the rearview of 20 years lived with 20 totally unknown ahead... knowing so many don't ever get to say that.
Same said centering here between 22 + 42. Also in the middle of 27 + 37, too.
This 32, a wonderful view. Gratitude evermore with a current count of twelve tattoos, marking timestamps of who I’ve been along the way to who I am now. Perhaps the coolest part of inked skin - a treasure map of art in present moments made infinite.
When I look at my inner wrists, I see the reflection of an 18-year-old freshman at GVSU in 2007 on the left (first-ever tattoo), the 23-year-old graduate living in Los Angeles in 2012 on the right (tattoo no. 8). Two uniquely past versions of me, together with me forever. Still here, still me. Chapters in my book of life, inked to remember so long as I am here.
Tattoos: timestamps of yesteryou so much as yesteryear.
Btw, something historically enlightening I learned recently:
Ya’ll came *first before y’all (…ya’ll).
To further honor this 100th day of 2022, I'd like to share a free gift with you.
Meditate with me: Every morning, my meditation playlist (click!) looks like any combo from this list linked here. *The sharing of this sacred meditation playlist is dedicated to my dear friend and fellow writer, April Aragam. Thank you for inspiring me to share this, April.
Cheers & Namaste & Mahaloha,
Miny Calapa (Xo.Britt)
