I had a strange experience today. I was listening to Jackson Browne. I don’t usually listen to music while I work because you and I both know it lessens productivity. But I was listening, and writing about tetanus, and I guess the music carried some part of my mind back to my youth, when Jackson Browne was a star.
I was a huge fan. I still think that Browne is an underrated figure in American music. The lyrics of the songs were compelling, even after all these years, and the quality of the performance was high. I remembered #1 son singing “Won’t You Stay?” — which I associate with Jackson Browne.
And it suddenly struck me… I have such a cool life.
True, in this blog, a lot of my attention goes toward things like cleaning my house or cooking or knitting. These things are not cool. They’re valuable, important, deeply right, and part of a good life. But they’re not cool.
I get stressed out over having too much work or having to talk to people too much or… I don’t know. Whatever it is that I get stressed over. And we’ve had a lot of things going on so far this year. My mother died. My stepfather said this morning that his doctor has told him to get his affairs in order. My husband is being laid off next week after 25 years of service in one company. Other stuff I can’t currently remember.
But the truth is this: I own a tech company with my daughter. My son works for me, writing in between climbing trips. My other kids work for Automattic and the National Wildlife Research Center. I spend my day doing creative, exciting things for a living. I spend my spare time singing, learning, traveling, and making things.
And I’m a pretty good knitter, too.
Who gets a life like that?
I think that if, one of those evenings when I was dancing to Jackson Browne, I had been given the chance to see this, I would have been amazed. Maybe impressed. Who thought I would have such a cool life?