I started my 28th birthday at 4:15am.
A solid hour and fifteen minutes of sleep under my belt, I pulled my legs – begrudgingly – out from under the swathes of white linen sheets among which I’d been cocooning. I was tired. Like, so dang tired. But I had a purpose.
Explicitly: to make sure I was showered, dressed, ready, and waiting for the Lyft I’d scheduled the night before. “Will arrive between 4:30 and 4:40.”
Turns out that San Diego airport security ain’t no thang at 5 in the morning. Let’s face it, I basically opened the place. When it’s that early not even TSA gives a flying fuck about how many liquids you have or whether or not you’re wearing shoes or have three cameras and a laptop in your carryon. Nope – sailed straight through.
Sitting, over-warm, on a less than comfortable airport chair before the sun had yet risen I had no idea that this would be the best birthday I’d yet experienced. Leading up to the day I had the faintest inkling that 28 would be my year. By the end of the day I knew for certain.
I proceeded to spend five of the best days of my life in Vancouver with one of my favorite people of all time. That’s not to say that the trip was all tulips and avocado toast, either. Simply that the spectrum of emotions I experienced made it real while also leaving space for beauty.
To say this trip changed my life is an understatement. It reaffirmed deep seated emotions, brought light back to places that had since been cast into shadow, and opened doors I wasn’t previously able to see. In a way, this trip started everything.
You see, when someone looks you in the eyes and tells you that one of the most worthwhile things they could do is to help you in creating something epic? You do it. And no, the answers didn’t suddenly reveal themselves. But, bit by bit, they began to come.