When I was taking jewelry classes, we learned different techniques for marriage of metals. This involved learning how to combine different metals into one smooth, much more interesting piece. Twisted Wire. Mokume Gane. Soldering contrasting metals together and manipulating them to form something new. Truth be told, I suck at it. In a perfect world, the metals above should match perfectly, leaving no gaps, so the finished piece is seamless. Uh huh. Uh huh. Nothing I do is seamless. Nuh. Thing. But I loved this piece so much. It was quirky and interesting and the contrast of colors pleased me. Of course when I tried to cut it up and rearrange it, it fell apart. Sometimes perfection is overrated, but other times? Those are the times you take a little more time. Measure more carefully. Life isn’t linear. Some days it all lines up perfectly and some days? It falls apart. As I start another trip around the sun, I reflect on the love and sweet wishes that came from all over. I am very aware of how blessed I am. Friends and family that truly love me. Opportunities to give back that spur me on. A creative spirit to feed my soul. Roof/Head. Health/Good. Hubby/Adorable. So much f*%#ing good fortune. So why am I up at 3:00 in the morning? Well, let’s face it. I’m up at 3 in the morning a lot. And if I have to move my car at 7, oh yeah, Imma be up and staring at the clock. Life is a glorious shitstorm. This week was unimaginable for two people I care about. Two friends who lost someone so dear to them, so loved, too young. And grieving these losses along with our dear friends puts the minutiae which eats away at us into stark perspective. I’m worried Imma make an ass of myself in a solo in our synagogue musical? So what. I can’t figure out how to create Louvre-worthy valentines with the two precious girls I help out with? Who cares? I’m gaining back some of the weight I worked so hard to lose? Big Deal. I’m too this. I’m too that. I’m exhausted. Stressed. Drained. I can’t sleep. I can’t stop eating. I’m falling apart. But, see that’s the thing. This didn’t ultimately become a smooth perfect sheet of contrasting metals. But bits and pieces of it went into other pieces. Falling apart is ok, because, somehow, we get put back together again. Not always in the way we wanted, or hoped for, and rarely as smooth or perfect as we envisioned but together none the less. So when I have to get up in two hours, on this, the first morning of my next trip around the sun, I am gonna look and feel like two miles of hastily put together scrap metal, for sure. But somehow, I’ll be whole.