35 for 35: What I’ve Come to Believe (Part 4 of 5)

Reflecting on 35

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My name is Tanner and here I post stories, reflections, poems, and prayers.

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As I celebrate turning 35, I’ve compiled a list of 35 truths, life lessons, and pieces of wisdom shared by others that I’ve gathered over the years. This collection isn’t organized in any specific order. Over the next 5 posts, I’ll be sharing these insights through a blend of stories, poetry, videos, and handwritten notes.

Part 1: 1-8
Part 2: 9-16
Part 3: 17-24
Part 4: 25 - 29
Part 5: 30 - 35

Let’s get into it …

25. Here is the deal: I am a first time human being.

I’ve never done this living thing before.

As a first time human being you don’t have to have it all figured out.

This is something I am slowly coming to believe.

I don’t have to have it all figured out to be gentle with myself or with others.

After all, I’ll never have it all figured out and uncertainty will always be and I think that’s a good thing.

In the uncertainty I can hold fast to the joy of the unknown.

I can leave worry behind and take another step with faith and speak peace to the fear when it finds me.

These days I am finding freedom in being honest. 

Everything changes with a little honesty. 

Go on and cut yourself and others some slack.

Give yourself and others some grace. 

We are all just first time human beings.

Video: Reading the poem, First Time Human Being for the first time.
Click the button to read the full poem

26. Stay curious

Hold onto that childlike wonder that lives somewhere deep inside of you.
Lean into the life that God has given you.
Ask questions.
Say, “Tell me more about that.”
Ask how and why.
Go from a closed fist to open hands.

My friend, Andrew Jones says, “Curiosity is an act of love. Curiosity comes from the Latin word “cura” which means “care.” Curiosity means we care. Not being curious, points to a lack of care and lack of love.”

27. Take the trip.

Go have the adventure. 
Save the money.
Navigate the obstacles.
Book the vacation.
Make the reservation.
Eat the food.
Raise a glass.
Live the life. 
Do the thing. 

Go see how they’re doing in Europe or Australia or Jacksonville, whatever place is on your bucket list.

Life is too short to not take the trip.

Here I am a few years ago. I took my own advice. I took the trip. We went to Cancun and I returned feeling alive, rested, and only 5 pounds heavier. Look at me. I am drinking coffee in a pool beneath the sunshine. It was amazing. Go take the trip.

28. You belong

If you are to ask me what my greatest fears as a child were I would tell you the following:

1. Snakes
2. Glitter
3. Knocking on doors

Before we had cell phones we had to do the terrifying work of pounding on front doors with our knuckles to see if our friends wanted to come outside and play.

I hated knocking on doors. 

It didn’t matter if it was someone I knew or a stranger. My body would flood with anxiety as I took small, slow steps up their driveway. 

I would cough loudly or pound my basketball, thinking maybe this would alert them and they would step outside to greet me. As I inched closer I would pray to God that my friends father wouldn’t open the door. Dads scared me. 

I don’t know why, but they did. Most of them didn’t seem very friendly or worse, they were too friendly.

Either way I was scared.

I felt like an intruder, worried I wouldn’t be welcomed.

What if they weren’t happy to see me?
What if they were in the middle of a family meeting?
What if this wasn’t a good time?
What if my knocking wakes up someone taking a nap?
Waking someone up from a nap is almost an unforgivable sin.

But one day in high school everything changed.
I approached my friends front door, taking small, slow steps up the driveway, coughing with every care on my mind.
I silently prayed in my head that my friend would open the door and not one of her parents.
Just as I said Amen and right before my knuckles could knock the door swung open.
It was my friend’s dad.
I froze.
I didn’t know what I expected to happen, but I didn’t expect this to happen next.
He met with a warm smile, the kind of smile moms usually give to nervous looking children, but somehow he must have learned.
“You okay?” he asked in a way that I knew that he knew that I wasn’t okay.
I fumbled my words before finally confessing I didn’t like knocking on doors.
He nodded his head, taking in my nervousness.
And then he said what I didn’t know I needed to hear.
“No need to worry about being nervous when you come over to our house. You are always invited and welcome here.”

29. Fill your phone

My phone is full of too many and not enough photos.

Photos of coffee and Thursdays and moments that have reminded me life is worth living.

Screenshots of recipes I’ll never make.
Photos of us and that perfect meal we had in Birmingham.

Staged photos and selfies and covers of books I’ve been meaning to buy so they can sit on my shelf. 

Photos of memories I’ll only remember when I see the photo.

My phone is full of photos I’ve been meaning to delete.

My phone has more photos of sunsets than sunrises, more pastries than salads, more dogs than cats. 

Videos of my son doing miraculous things like breathing and blinking and being.

Photos of skylines and concerts and views from the airplane window seat.

Photos of those I have loved and lost.

Videos of my dog running through the snow and sticking his head out the window while we drive down the road and all the things that make me ask him, who’s a good boy?

Photos that remind me of what was and make me wonder what will be.

I say all of this to say:

Fill your phone.

Fill your life.

Recall the past, give yourself to the present.

Take the photo and then put your phone away and enjoy the moment.

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