Currently it’s just after midnight, and I’m in Tulsa, Oklahoma, at my aunt’s house. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve stayed here, sometimes in the spare bedroom upstairs, sometimes on the couch downstairs. (I’ll be on the couch tonight.) When I was in my twenties and traveling to various dance events, I used to pit-stop here a lot. At some point my aunt just gave me a key, like, come and go as you please. You know how it is when you’re part of the furniture. You walk in, throw your keys on the table, and immediately relax. No matter what kind of day you’ve had, it’s okay because–well–you’re home.

Y’all, I’ve had the best day. Spring is in the air, the weather is glorious, and Tom Collins (my car) and I had a great drive into town this morning. Right off the bat, my friend Frank and I had coffee. Frank and I met each other through our Reiki group and keep up by email. Plus, Frank reads the blog and regularly sends me encouraging messages, like, You’re not alone–I feel that way too. Well, we had a delightful chat, and get this shit. As we left the diner where we met, Frank said, “I was cleaning my closets out recently and–I don’t even know where I got it–but I found something I don’t think you can live without.” Naturally intrigued, I said, “I can’t WAIT to see it.”

Y’all–it was a 2009 High School Musical (Zac Efron!) wall calendar! Talk about the perfect gift. I seriously couldn’t stop smiling.

I can’t wait to hang it up.

And yes, I’m a 37-year-old man.

Well, as if that weren’t enough, I then met my friends Kara and Amber for dinner. We were supposed to meet recently in Fayetteville (we all live in different cities), but I got stuck in a bad traffic jam and couldn’t make it, so we rescheduled for today. And whereas the company was amazing–like, it really was great, and I love, love, love our talks–what I’d really like to discuss now is the desserts. We split this chocolate cake and gelato thing that was UH-MAZING, as well as a gooey blueberry cake situation that was better than any one-night stand or long-term relationship I’ve ever had. I’m not even a big fruity cake fan, but this thing knocked my socks off. I mean, it was a huge FO.

FO (pronounced eff-oh) stands for Food Orgasm, Mom.

After dinner I attended a local swing dance. I didn’t tell any of my Tulsa dancer friends that I was coming, so I got to surprise a few of them. Plus, some of my Arkansas dancer friends were in town, so it felt like a little reunion. Y’all, I had some great dances. By the time the night was over, my shirt was dripping wet. Plus, it turned out to be my friend Marina’s birthday. No kidding, she turned 96 today. 96, and this woman was wearing a t-shirt that said, “Where’s the WIFI at?” Talk about an inspiration.

For me, there’s something about dancing in Tulsa. When I was cutting my teeth as a young swing dancer, my friends and I used to drive to Tulsa to learn how to Lindy Hop. (When it comes to dancing, Oklahoma is “slightly” more progressive than Arkansas.) Anyway, that’s how I met my friends Gregg and Rita (whom I’ve traveled with over the years), and that’s how I (eventually) met Marina. And no kidding–as much fun as dancing can be with a stranger, it’s even better with your friends. Really, there’s nothing like it, moving to the music while you’re holding hands with someone who’s known you and loved you through all of life’s peaks and valleys.

Tonight’s blog is number 359, which means that I only have seven more posts to go (including this one) in order to reach a solid year of daily writing. Just thinking about this fact, about crossing the one-year finish line, makes me emotional. A year ago this was just an idea. I remember exactly where I was standing and what was going on when it came to me. And whereas I was excited about this blog, I had no clue (none) how it would change me for the better. Closing in on “year one,” I can honestly say this is both the most difficult and simultaneously most rewarding project I have ever undertaken.

No exceptions.

In the beginning of this project, there was a part of me that imagined my life would look different by now, that I’d either have more readers or a book deal, or that I’d be living in a different city. Now I think it’s safe to say that none of those fantasies will materialize within the next week. But honestly, that’s okay. You see, the universe likes to play tricks on people. A year ago I thought I was starting this blog in order to get something, like a ticket to a better life. Perhaps I wouldn’t have started it any other way. But somewhere along this journey, I realized that a deeper, wiser part of me actually started this blog in oder to BECOME something.

In almost a year, I’ve written over 350,000 words, each one as honest as I could make it. Some of you–God bless your hearts–have been there for every frickin’ one. And yet despite all these honest words, this is where words fail me, since I can’t find a way to properly describe what a beneficial thing this strange trip has been (and is). I can try (I have tried and will continue to try), but I really believe that if you want to know, you have to take the trip for yourself. You have to go where your spirit calls you.

When I talk about “becoming something,” what I really mean is “becoming someone,” specifically–yourself. And that’s the weird thing–a year ago I wouldn’t have said that I wasn’t me. And yet there were so many places in my life where I was intimidated or afraid, places where I felt “less than.” Likewise, there were so many times that I’d bite my tongue or people please, hide my truth or shut myself down in some way. And all of that is different now. I can’t say exactly when it happened, but I can say exactly where it happened–right here at this laptop. This is where I’ve sat down 359 times in order to–often unknowingly–discover and meet myself, to get honest about what I want, what I feel, and what’s happening inside.

But back to words failing. When I walk into my aunt’s house, I know I’m part of the furniture. Likewise, when I sit down to dinner with my friends Kara and Amber, I know I can let my hair down. It’s the same when I’m on the dance floor with my friends Greg, Rita, and Marina. In these moments, these fleeting moments, I’m home. But after this strange trip, now it’s like I’m home all the time. Somehow I got a ticket to a better life, but it’s not an external one–it’s an internal one. Now no matter where I am or whom I’m with, not only am I less intimidated and less afraid, I’m also more comfortable in my skin. Less and less do I feel “less than.” More importantly, I know that no matter what happens, I’ll always have one person on my side, one person who will be there for me and love me unconditionally. This one person, of course, is me. Of all the lessons I’ve learned in the last year, perhaps this is the most important–this one person is enough.