"525,600 minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter in strife
525,600 minutes
How do you measure, measure a life?
How about love?...Measure in love... Seasons of love...."
These are the starting lyrics to my all time, most favorite, beloved, held-sacred-musical, RENT. I saw it with my ex-
husband on our honeymoon in NYC in 1996. It was an off Broadway show then, before hitting it big. Scratch that, before
hitting it gargantuantly HUGE. The over arching theme of the story is one of love. Love in all its forms. This particular
song has always moved me; albeit, none to the extent as when I first sat in the Nederlander Theater, packed in like
sardines, my down coat still encasing me in a bubble-like state the duration of the first Act, that December evening. The
song swells, culminating with the entire cast doing a push up the stage. I had a visceral reaction. I was in NYC for the
first time, actually in my first big city EVER, over the holidays, a recent college Grad and newlywed...I didn't realize
all the change I had moved through those past 2 months until we were at at a pizza place on our 2nd day in town - and
suddenly, I had to leave. Not leave as in, take our pizza and step outside into the cold, red-nose inducing NY winter
weather and eat a slice as we stroll...NO. This was more of a I need to leave, NOW. Like, right now, do not pass go, Do not
wait to explain to your brand new husband your sudden manic-like exodus. No, just get the hell out of there, it was the fear felt
tied to the train tracks and the train was a'comin' terrified feeling...that song spoke to me in a way that is still far
too profound to communicate. I felt at that time like I didn't know myself, that I didn't know why it happened (it was the
first feeling like that of several in the days and months to follow that I'd come to learn later, were panic attacks) At
the time though, I felt like a freak, like I was possibly going crazy and that maybe anything my imagination had ever or
could ever dream up was possible...and maybe even more frightening, probable. I felt unworthy of love. From my husband, from myself, anyone.
All these years later and thankfully a good solid decade since I last felt any panic attack-like symptoms- I think about
that song and why it moved me like it did. Why it still moves me as it does. I think for so long I was afraid of...well, a
lot. I mean, yes the normal stuff, and the not so normal stuff that only the grandiosity of a complete and utter panicked
state can drum up kinda stuff and then some more typical stuff on top of that. Simply put, I was afraid of life. Of risk,
of the unknown, of the what-ifs, of a mid-air accident, of being truly exposed and vulnerable, of finally getting my
ticker so flippen worked up during one of these panic attacks, I just -kaput. Keeled over and died from shear anxiety.
People can do that, right? Die from being entirely petrified??! It seemed possible and as I said before, possibly even
probable.
I started this entry to focus on how we look at a year, how we measure a year; with the new year looming, it's a
predictable assumption to tie it in...but the line that keeps screaming at me is, "How do we measure, measure a life?" I
used to measure it in fear- this is what is wrong with me, my life, my circumstance (my close friends who "knew me then"
can attest - that was my focus and where I spent my energy) Life was a big scary unknown place to be feared.
Amazingly enough about 8 real life scary things all convened about 4+ years ago that were REAL fears come to life; being
my own "financial plan," developing a career, not just a job for supplemental income, more health issues, a shattered
marriage and divorce, leaving my home and living on my own- for the first time ever, at 37. Yes- ever. Someone once said,
"Wow, you really had to reinvent yourself", I responded with, "Uh, I never had myself before- I had to first invent
myself!" And at 37- how the hell do you do that?
I made a list; I wrote what I wanted to be and what I was-
being brutally honest with myself and maybe for the first time, graciously giving myself some grace to figure it out as I
went, recognizing some of my decisions might really surprise me. The first was to get the 40+ lbs I put on years prior
from a long- heavy steroid treatment due to my UC. I had watched a friend- who I deemed as "fit" (but not the standard
skinny-minny size), complete a triathlon. Not a walk, not a 5K, a sprint TRI. So, perhaps in a manic-I've got nothing
else to loose moment, I registered. Even worse, I posted that I did so on Facebook.
And so, I started the epically slow, embryonic -like steps toward shedding the 40lbs by starting to be intentional. It
became my focus when my son was at his Dad's, my way of dealing with stress, my way of connecting with nature, myself, my
inner strength that I never gave myself credit prior for having...and my 40lbs over a year- was more like 90lbs. I had it to
loose, but I would have never initially aimed for such a lofty goal- the mere thought would be far too intimidating...but
slowly, with every single stroke, step, & peddle, I was the little engine that could. Or more truthfully, I was the
little engine that bitched and moaned internally the whole way, but for every gripe, I said, "but I will, because I can do
this."
I left my "safe" job to pursue one that would allow me greater financial freedom, even though the idea initially scared me
to death. Overtime I put myself out there emotionally too. I accepted a few dates and eventually, in what I still say was
a moment of overindulgence of wine, even did the online dating thing. I completely ignored it 2 of the 3 months span I had
a membership. I finally responded to one of the "requests" and ended up dating that person for almost a year and a half. I learned
a TON from that relationship; I regret not a minute, not a moment of vulnerability as it gave me such guidance
and yet space at the same to continue working on me and better determine what I wanted in my life so far as a partner and
mate. That relationship ended, I was broken hearted for sure, but not broken. Then, I was laid off. I had just bought a house that Fall, so the lay off felt as if it could be the final straw of my new and improved "intentional
outlook" about life, and summon the return of the "see, life is too scary- it's better to be safe" m.o., I previously
employed. But, I was only unemployed a few weeks before taking a job that was even MORE of a stretch then the previous
role initially was. I had my doubts about the "fit" the first day. I had that same feeling every.single.day for the next
363 days. I had my successes, but it was the most demanding job both physically and emotionally I ever had. Life took
another turn when I showed up utterly exhausted to a friends happy hour one beautiful September evening a month into my
new, demanding, overwhelming job. Matt entered my life a few days later, it required yet again the ability to let the fear
go, in fact, many of our early conversations were about living life- really living. Not going through the motions, or
living in fear of what if this or what if that... it was by far my biggest leap thus far & I have had such fantastic fun
and frustration, and overwhelming feelings of how could/ will this look down the road, but it is by far the most REAL, the
most intentional/exposed I have been with myself and another human. I continue to struggle at times with fears, just as we all do,
but I vow to never again let the feeling that living life means being scared and holding back.
Going back to the chorus of "Seasons of Love," I can't help but ask myself, "how do I measure my life?" I like to think it
is measured in love. Love for life, love for adventure, love for what vulnerability can bring and reveal, love of myself-
as I am, love for the possibility of tomorrow and love for what I have here today.
So here's a question I'd like to pose; How do you measure a year? More importantly, how do you measure your life? And most
importantly, how would you like to measure your life?
