I really don’t want to wax philosophic,
but I will say that if you’re alive,
you got to flap your arms and legs,
you got to jump around a lot,
you got to make a lot of noise,
because life is the very opposite of death.
And therefore, as I see it,
if you’re quiet, you’re not living.
You’ve got to be noisy,
or at least your thoughts should be
noisy and colorful and lively.
how beautifully difficult
and therefore true.
So, as it turns out, Mel Brooks and I are kindred spirits. Who knew?
It’s my birthday! I am 32 today. I like the even number years better than the odd ones, how about you?
So far I have received twenty thousand “bigger, biggest, squeezy hugs” from Cass and an e-card, of Rerun from What’s Happening dancing his little heart out. (Thanks John, for filling my morning with dancing and laughter!)
Here’s a weird story I want to share right quick, and you have to indulge me, ’cause it’s my birthday.
My name, as you know, is Robin. The story goes that the day before my mother gave birth to me (16 hours in labor, people, I nearly killed her. She is no longer here to tell anyone that, but she would definitely want you to know), a robin flew into the living room window and fell lifeless to the ground.
My mother, apparently supercharged by maternal hormones because this would have been out of character for her, picked up the bird, took it inside, lay it in a warm oven, revived it, forced some milk down its throat (don’t ask me why, I don’t know), and let it live in the house. For a day.
It flew out into the great blue yonder as my father held the door open for my mother as she left for the hospital. And naturally, its courageous and resurrecting spirit lives on in me. Good stuff, right? This story would be faithfully retold every year on my birthday.
Yesterday, and this is no joke, a house wren flew into my house (through the cat door, wrens are curious little buggers) and hit a window.
It fell, stunned, but got right back up and circled drunkenly all around.
I yelled for the kids to keep the cats back and Cass and I managed to herd the poor dazed thing out of the house.
Thankfully I am not about to give birth, as this would indicate the Fates mean for me to name my child Wren. Or maybe House. Actually, House would be pretty funny, as I could tell everyone that I named my child after my TV boyfriend Dr Gregory House.
I am choosing to see this as a little birthday reminder of my parents, that although they have been gone some five years now, they are still a very real part of my life. Even though my mother is not here to tell the story behind my name, the story still finds a way to be told.
As John Muir says, “When we try to pick anything out by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.” We are all connected, everything is connected, and for me today, everything is imbued with meaning and joyful remembrance.
Needless to say I am in high spirits. Know what would really put me over the top?
Birthday comments! Yes, I know, I am shameless. But what I would love today is a sense of connection with my internet pals, a sense that I’m not just talking to myself. Friends that are flesh-and-blood real life friends and family, this means you too!
Give me virtual hugs! Tell me stories! Get noisy!