All the Proof You Need

On Aging, Love, and Terri Kirby Erickson's "What Matters"

My birthday was on Saturday. Birthdays usually feel bittersweet for me. The sweet parts are another year of life, and the people who care about me, but the bitter part is another year gone, more time passing. This year, though, I felt less melancholy and more grateful. I have many reasons to feel grateful, but I’m most thankful for my sense of self and how I found it.

Becoming more of myself is the best thing about getting older. I had a wonderful childhood, teen years filled with friends and adventures, and I experienced beautiful moments of growth in my 20s, but it's been my 30s that I've loved the most so far. My life doesn't look exactly as I pictured it, and even in that difference, I find myself thankful. With every year, I see myself getting more confident, a bit more bold. I'm better about using my voice now than I ever was at 22, whether it's speaking up for myself or someone else. I feel more at home in my body than I could have imagined at 18. This internal evolution has been a slow process comprised of many parts, but the one I'm thinking about today is love. 

Photo by Leighann Blackwood on Unsplash

The poem I want to share this week is one I read in How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope, edited by James Crews. Crews chose many beautiful pieces for the book, but one of my favorites is "What Matters" by Terri Kirby Erickson: 

What other people think of you,
what they say, are burdens
no one should carry. Lift a spoon,

a cup, things that fit in your hand.
Carry on a conversation,
pick up a baby. Listen to the wind

when it whispers, nothing else.
There is no one watching you,
no one straining to hear what

you say. The present has arrived
and you are in it. Your heart
is pumping. Your breath moves

in and out of your lungs without
anyone’s help or permission.
Let go of everything else. Let

your life, handed to you through
no effort of your own, be all
the proof you need. You are loved.

Like everyone else, I spent my young adult years worrying about what people thought of me. That's still something I think about, but most of the time, I can set down the burden of people's opinions. I can do that partly because I've worked on myself, but love has made the most significant difference. Instead of listening to or seeking out opinions from those who don't know me, I listen to those who see me and speak goodness into my life. Instead of hustling for worthiness like Brené Brown talks about, I can rest in believing that my very existence proves I am loved, as Erickson says in her poem. The opinions of people haven't helped me grow, but their love has because love is action, not just belief.

Erickson says, "The present has arrived and you are in it." Mary Oliver asks us what we plan to do with our "one wild and precious life." The best we can do is devote ourselves to love, which sounds so cheesy that I hate typing it, but it's true. We're the best versions of ourselves when we're filled with love. And love can be contagious. It's easier for me to love myself when I see other women loving themselves exactly as they are. It's easier for me to set aside money or time to give away when I know the people I respect the most are doing the same thing. What we love shows what we value.

My hope for you, dear reader, is that you value who you are. May you continue to grow with every year. May you love your awkwardness and your quirks. May you love your neighbor well so that your love sets something inside of them free. Your life is all the proof you need that you belong.