Templar Dr.
a poem on gratitude.
One of the things I believe that is incredibly common to the human experience is our tendency to reminisce. I think I gained an extra amount of this trait from my father. I all too often read through old journals, look through old photos, and write about fond memories. I don’t think I’m alone in that. Even our culture is inundated with reminiscing about the “good old days.” It’s why everyone tells me to, “enjoy my youth.”
Of course, most of us twentysomethings are annoyed by that phrase. Youth seems to come with its own set of challenges. They are overcome and forgotten about as one grows older and gains responsibility. The things we learn in our youth become “the new norm” and are no longer seen as challenges but simply as “life.”
I have many memories that bring a smile to my face and fondness in my heart. At the moment, of course, I was incredibly stressed and often I don’t know if I experienced the fullness of the moment.
Like the time my friend called me at 3 AM saying she was picking me up in 5 minutes to drive two hours to Joshua Tree National Park to watch the sunrise. It was magical, but the nagging feeling that I was going to be late to work at 9 AM stole a bit of my joy.
Or the time I took 12 flights on a solo trip to Peru and Bolivia. In hindsight, it probably was not worth sleeping on airport floors, sprinting between terminals, and pure exhaustion only to save $300. But it sure was an adventure. One that I look back on and smile.
I don’t think any moment is purebred. Every one of them seems to be ridden with great joys and stresses. We see our hard times redeemed, and our good times always a little tainted by something.
In college, I overplayed this song called “Good Old Days” by Macklemore and Kesha:
“I wish somebody would have told me then
Some day, these will be the good old days
All the love you won't forget
And all these reckless nights you won't regret
Someday soon, your whole life's gonna change
You'll miss the magic of these good old days.”
I wanted to remind myself that amidst the stress of deadlines, balancing everything, and figuring out who I am, I would look back and realize these were my own good old days.
I realized the same thing today, washing my dishes and vacuuming my house. Life in your early twenties has its own set of challenges, but I know I will look back and cherish these moments: My first year of marriage, our first home, and our time in Minnesota. I used to dream of these days. They aren’t perfect. But I love them just the way they are.
I’m grateful.
And I wrote this poem.
Templar Dr.
oh to think four years ago
zero waste shops
and foam surfboards
an almost graduation
house packed with seven girls
and a hole in the ceiling;
two weeks of nonstop Tiger King
reading psalms on rooftops
songs almost done
a summer fling
and a hole in the ceiling;
pink bougainvillea overgrown
ATM lines run rows and rows
a broken A/C in 94
takeout only, drop it at the door
and a hole in the ceiling;
lemon bars and lightened hair
poison ivy, ER didn’t care
climbed the tower a little too high
slacklined and a little boy said hi
and a hole in the ceiling;
police came and kicked me out
can’t hang a hammock in the park
a drive through the desert with a wheel not straight
love quickly turns to hate
and a hole in the ceiling;
waves glow in the dark
dance, jump, and spin
a re-pierced noise with a safety pin
a solo swim across a lake in Hetch Hetchy
singing Christmas carols in Jtree
pack the car and go
hoping for gas stations along the way
feet in the clover one last time
and a hole in the ceiling
all along was revealing-
and you wouldn’t change a thing.