Last weekend while I was in Tulsa, my friend Frank gave me a 2009 High School Musical calendar (I have a relatively mild crush on Zac Efron), and when I got home I hung the calendar above my bed. It’s opened to Zac’s picture, of course. There are actually a few pictures of Zac for the month of February, one really big then a few smaller ones–like a collage. One of the smaller pictures has “some girl” staring at Zac all googly-eyed, and my friend Kara said I should paste a picture of my face over hers, like, staring at Zac “longingly.” For a moment, I actually considered it. I’m almost forty years old.

Since my door is normally closed, my dad just saw the calendar for the first time tonight. It was so cute. He said, “Is that a picture of you?”

“Uh, no–thank you–that’s Zac Efron.”

“Well you’re better looking that he is!”

Y’all, I realize parents are supposed to say stuff like this to their children, but it seriously made my day–well, more like it made my five seconds, since then my dad immediately said, “I don’t have my glasses on.” I haven’t been able to get these two phrases out of my head all night–“You’re better looking than he is,” and “I don’t have my glasses on.”

Talk about blowing up the balloon of my ego then letting all the air out.

Parents.

Last night I did a Facebook Live video (my first ever) to celebrate the one-year anniversary of my blog (the blog you’re reading right now). First, to anyone who tuned in live or watched later–thank you! It was really fun, and getting to interact with several of you and read your comments truly made my day.

For anyone who missed the live video that’s interested, here’s a copy of it (22 minutes). Toward the end I read yesterday’s one-year anniversary post. Also, when I tested it for this post, I had to “hover over” the bottom of the video to un-mute it after hitting play.

After wrapping up last night’s video, I attended a swing dance in Fayetteville. One of the people I danced with last night, another guy, said he’d only been dancing a couple of months. He had the biggest smile on his face all night. Later I told someone else that I remember feeling that way when I first started dancing, that I was a little jealous of beginners because they are “all joy” and not focused on whether they’re doing something right or wrong. They’re not comparing themselves to others. Not that being a “seasoned dancer” means you can’t have fun. Last night I had as much fun as I’ve ever had, mostly–I think–because I’ve gotten more comfortable in my skin this last year. It’s not as if I don’t notice who dances “better” or “worse” than I do–I just don’t care as much anymore. I’d rather have fun.

With the exception of a two-hour get-together with my friend Kara, I spent the entirety of today reading a book called Here Is Real Magic (A Magician’s Search for Wonder in the Modern World) by Nate Staniforth. A memoir, the book is largely about the fact that as we grow older and fill ourselves with facts and figures (knowledge), we lose touch with the beautiful, awe-inspiring, wonderful world around us. Nate, a magician, says this is the magician’s job, not to trick or deceive people, but to help bring them into the present moment and remind them of the mystery of life. As spectators we’re curious how magicians perform their tricks, but, as Nate says, not all questions have to have answers.

To read a beautiful quote by Roald Dahl and the introduction to Nate’s book, click the preview button below.

Y’all, the book really is glorious–a lovely story wonderfully told. I don’t say this about many authors, but Nate is an excellent writer–I read the entire book today, cover to cover, and for all my reading, that rarely happens. Two days, maybe. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about this wonder thing today. A friend of mine posted some videos of us dancing last night, and I’ve been watching them over and over. Part of me, the critical part, notices what I don’t like–my posture, the way I shape my arms, the fact that I’ve been sick lately and was completely out of breath after one dance. But I keep telling myself that in that moment, I was like that beginner dancer having fun–a smile on my face, content to simply be alive and (quite literally) kicking.

I’ve had a fascination with the planets lately, and driving home from my get-together with Kara today, I got this picture of the planet earth. It was like I was looking at it from outer space, this big ball with billions of people with their feet glued all over its surface. They say there’s no up or down in outer space, but if there were, clearly the people in the northern hemisphere would be facing “up” and the people in the southern hemisphere would be facing “down.” Thanks to gravity, no one feels like they are “right-side up” or “upside down,” but my point is still the same–WOW, what a world we live in.

Since working through a lot of my personal shit this last year, I’ve actually been having thoughts like these more and more. I’ll be driving along and think, My God, that mountain is gorgeous, or even, Look at that lightbulb–what a great thing–what did people do before lightbulbs? I guess children have these thoughts all the time. For them, the entire world and everything in it is new, bright, and beautiful. When someone gives them a compliment, they don’t have to question if it’s true–they know that they too are beautiful. Beautiful–full of beauty–this is how I’m slowly coming to see the world and all that is in it, including myself. And what a beautiful world indeed, a whirling planet full of wonder, where up is down and down is up and people can dance together.