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Christopher Spicer
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Today marks the 36th year that I've wandered around in this place called life. When one has done that much bumping and bouncing off the wonders that the world provides then one is prone to do a little reflection upon how far one has traveled and how many valuable things have been picked up on the way. The things I've learned in my 36 years about this reflection process is almost no matter who you are and what you've actually achieved, you have the choice to look through a filthy, mud-stained, slightly cracked window that makes everything appear more depressing and soul-crushing or you look through that spotless window that is giving off a lemony fresh scent along with having a pretty border that makes you smile. The value of one's life comes down to perspective, because there will always be things that one wished they could have already done or hit one's self hard in the forehead for doing, but that proper window will hopefully make it clear how many good things are dancing about as well.
So, at 36 I apparently have become a philosopher. But then isn't that what most writers are, along with being a storyteller, an informer, an entertainer, a critic, a liar, a dreamer, an analyzer, a keyboard-smasher. One thing I can definitely say I am at 36 is a writer. Now, if I call myself a successful writer depends on my mood that day and how many cheques for my work arrived in the mail that week. I am happy where my career is, and I'm excited to see where it will be when I'm writing my "37 Years Old" blog post.
I'm more than a writer. I am a husband. I am a father. I am a dog walker. I am a friend. Those things are all pretty important, and much easier to always point to as a success. I have a beautiful, intelligent, funny, and compassionate wife that has played a huge part in most of my greatest successes of the past decade. I have a son that reminds me every day that life is something you must embrace and love, and the amount of joy he injects into my heart with his morning smile is indescribable. Summit looks up at me as if I may be the most important person in the world, and along with my wife, I am to him, and that is good enough for me. The friendships I've made these past 36 years have been valuable treasures that have rewarded me with memories that I'll cling to for the next 36 plus years. I also should have included that I'm a son, because these past 36 years have also taught me how priceless it can be to have good parents, and I have amazing ones, and I am not just saying that because my mom looks after Everett about once a week.
My reflections show me a rather great life. One that I plan on only getting better and better over the next many years. A lot of that comes from the amazing people I have to share it with. Any of my successes in my writing career won't amount to much if I don't have my family and friends to do the celebrating with. It is these relationships that have made it a rich 36 years.
I'm always amazed by how much happens in a year. The years seem shorter and shorter the older I get, yet more seems to get packed into them. I seem to get older much faster, and my body is getting much better at reminding me that I'm nowhere near as young as my son (something I learn when playing with him). Every years is brimming with new knowledge and transformative events that I grow from but also give me a new outlook on life. I look forward to what surprises will be in store for year 37.
For now, I'm just going to spend this day trying out this brand new 36. So far, it is pretty darn spiffy.
Edit before publish: I wrote this piece early in the morning, but before I could publish it, a little voice was calling out to "daddy." Instead of proofreading and posting this piece, I got my precious little buddy ready for the day. During our routine, a magical little card floated into my hand, and I soon realized it was Everett's homemade masterpiece that he created with grandma. This has now not only made my first day as 36 even grander and more magnificent than I expected, but I already have one of my highlights of what will be year 37.
So, at 36 I apparently have become a philosopher. But then isn't that what most writers are, along with being a storyteller, an informer, an entertainer, a critic, a liar, a dreamer, an analyzer, a keyboard-smasher. One thing I can definitely say I am at 36 is a writer. Now, if I call myself a successful writer depends on my mood that day and how many cheques for my work arrived in the mail that week. I am happy where my career is, and I'm excited to see where it will be when I'm writing my "37 Years Old" blog post.
I'm more than a writer. I am a husband. I am a father. I am a dog walker. I am a friend. Those things are all pretty important, and much easier to always point to as a success. I have a beautiful, intelligent, funny, and compassionate wife that has played a huge part in most of my greatest successes of the past decade. I have a son that reminds me every day that life is something you must embrace and love, and the amount of joy he injects into my heart with his morning smile is indescribable. Summit looks up at me as if I may be the most important person in the world, and along with my wife, I am to him, and that is good enough for me. The friendships I've made these past 36 years have been valuable treasures that have rewarded me with memories that I'll cling to for the next 36 plus years. I also should have included that I'm a son, because these past 36 years have also taught me how priceless it can be to have good parents, and I have amazing ones, and I am not just saying that because my mom looks after Everett about once a week.
My reflections show me a rather great life. One that I plan on only getting better and better over the next many years. A lot of that comes from the amazing people I have to share it with. Any of my successes in my writing career won't amount to much if I don't have my family and friends to do the celebrating with. It is these relationships that have made it a rich 36 years.
I'm always amazed by how much happens in a year. The years seem shorter and shorter the older I get, yet more seems to get packed into them. I seem to get older much faster, and my body is getting much better at reminding me that I'm nowhere near as young as my son (something I learn when playing with him). Every years is brimming with new knowledge and transformative events that I grow from but also give me a new outlook on life. I look forward to what surprises will be in store for year 37.
For now, I'm just going to spend this day trying out this brand new 36. So far, it is pretty darn spiffy.
Edit before publish: I wrote this piece early in the morning, but before I could publish it, a little voice was calling out to "daddy." Instead of proofreading and posting this piece, I got my precious little buddy ready for the day. During our routine, a magical little card floated into my hand, and I soon realized it was Everett's homemade masterpiece that he created with grandma. This has now not only made my first day as 36 even grander and more magnificent than I expected, but I already have one of my highlights of what will be year 37.
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I am a writer, so I write. When I am not writing, I will eat candy, drink beer, and destroy small villages.
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