It only seems fitting that I begin this little chat by divulging the fact that I have indeed never read Virginia Woolf’s classic lecture. I actually haven’t read anything by her, but I know that her words encapsulate a feeling I have come to feel quite familiar with. The phrase again came to mind as I was driving as-I do, in my mom’s car-in silence (again as I do, as the radio doesn’t work and usually trying to drive, navigate and fiddle with my ipod is a recipe for disaster for my newly consistently driving in America self), when I began to think of how I wanted to spend my birthday. It’ll be 29 this year, and although I spent the last two years celebrating in various exotic locations (and always with great friends) it occurred to me that this one feels profoundly different.
It’s the dawn of the last year of my twenties, a decade filled with false certainty and certain ambiguity. I’ve loved, I’ve lost, I’ve traveled to three continents, I’ve worked, I’ve played, I’ve lost and found myself countless times. I’ve taken epic risks, and missed out on opportunities due to fear (more of the former than the latter, I feel proud to report) and I can say with confident hesitation that I feel closer to the path that my heart leads me to travel than I began the decade.
Thirty will inevitably again be a big hairy deal, if I know myself and my proclivity to love a great party (or week or two of them, as is common for the Katchmark women’s birthdays). But I want to take a minute to drink in 29. As I’ve learned about time, everything comes soon enough.
People back here in America have sort of missed out on celebrating my birthday with me for a few years. And I can understand the joy that comes from giving someone the “perfect gift”-one that brings a huge smile to the recipient’s face and shining happiness to the giver’s heart. And so as I thought of what I would like to be recieve for my birthday, what item or experience I would want? I pondered for a moment in that silent car gliding into the Minneapolis skyline.
Drinks? Bowling? Fortune teller? Massage? Spa? Movie? Theatre? Baseball game? Lions and tigers and bears? In the land of plenty, anything is possible. I ache for the simplicity, the hilarity, the "wait and see, we'll make a plan" of the bush in Botswana. Imported smarties on a homemade cake, a boat ride with crocs underneath. Pink duct tape and a broken disco ball rigged to the ceiling.
This year again my birthday falls, as it historically has-around Labor Day weekend in America, when everyone is getting ready to go back to school, celebrate the end of summer, get out to the State fair, Renaissance Festival or any number of great MN end of summer activities. I know that getting any big group of people together would likely be a stressful challenge for any involved and people would end up compromising something in their plans to make it work. I’ve been lucky enough to have seen all my friends pretty recently, and I didn’t want to add something else to people’s schedules, knowing how Americans tend to do things out of obligation. I wanted my birthday to be significant in an important way to the one (the only?) person that it really should matter to: me.
The more I thought about it all, the less I wanted. I knew that as my plane ticket to DC was purchased, with a departure date just a week after my birthday I didn’t under any circumstances want the burden of more stuff to pack in to what will inevitably be my already over-packed suitcases. I didn’t feel the need to have yet another drunken alcohol fueled celebration, generally ending in hangover and perhaps despair about getting one year older.
Upon failing to come up with anything that I wanted , or felt I needed, or could imagine great joy in receiving, I jokingly thought, “ok spoiled brat, what do you get the girl who has everything?”
Which is when the words I’ve never actually read came to mind as the answer.
What I want for my 29th birthday is a room of my own. I would like to have access to a place, nothing fancy, preferably with electricity, where I can spend the night before and the day and night of my 29th birthday on September 2. I want to spend the day alone, unplugged from the world, alone with my thoughts and my non-internets connected computer, to write. I want to retreat from all this for a moment so I can again appreciate it. Since I’ve been home I’m always running around to meet with people, nanny or housesit, or look for jobs or apartments in DC. So what I feel would make this a very happy birthday for me is to have time and space and silence with my thoughts so I can again indulge my African obsessions with reflection and mindfulness on the next step in my adventure.
So if you’re reading this, and you want to make a birthday wish come true send me a message. My only requirements are that the space is uninhabited for the time I’m there, and within a few hour’s drive of the Twin Cities. It can be someone’s cabin, house they;ll be away from for those nights, an apartment that’s between tenants, a guest house, converted garage, bush tent with generators, whatever. My desire is that it’s electrified so that I can run this laptop, and I’d like it to have a bathtub, but if there’s electricity and a couch that will suffice.
In my grand scheming plan this works out because someone reads about it and has a space they are willing to offer, or know someone who does. Perhaps someone likes the idea of the solitude, perhaps someone wants to fulfill a birthday wish. I’m confident the universe will grant this request through some avenue. I’ll probably use the time to write all about it. And perhaps to read some Virginia Woolf.
Cheers. Thanks. Gracias. Go siame.
Jen
