...are not the ones i think are going to be the best days.
they are often not the days we say will be the best days. the best days are often not holidays. they are often not the ones when i throw a party in my apartment. they are often not the ones on vacation, on the top of a very pretty mountain. they are not reunion days, friend's wedding days, birthdays, anniversaries, or sundays. don't get me wrong, those are very often good days but they are not the best days.
the best days have been the days i am running around, searching for coffee and sweating through my recently dry cleaned sweater. they are the days i sit in darkened theaters for hours, missing the sun, and freezing because we can't seem to have it both ways. they are the days when my stomach hurts from nervous knots and fear because what if the play i wrote sucks and everyone sees it but me? and what if no one comes? and no one cares and i die alone? they are days i forget to do something and know i will have to run someplace to get it done before running someplace else. they are the days i go to between being with people to being on my own and i have no qualms about either.
yesterday was a good day. a best day. yesterday two people told me (or told others who told me) that i was their favorite playwright...words i never even imagined hearing. yesterday a woman said she loved my work and thinks she's read all my plays and i'm not even sure how that is possible, but i'll take it. yesterday people i really cherish came to hear a play of mine and said sweet things about it. yesterday i got tipsy on rosé and texted someone back who i wasn't expecting to hear from. they wanted to know how my reading went even though they were far away. yesterday i went and saw a play i really liked that had jazz music playing and posters on the wall with the face of a performer my great-grandfather taught years and years ago and i realized that my appreciation for jazz is literally in my blood. yesterday i danced in my elevator alone because it felt right and i had wine for dinner which didn't feel right but whatever.
but really yesterday was a good day, a best day, because i felt joy. i felt it. i felt it so wholeheartedly. and i knew it was there and every time my mind wanted to tarnish the joy--point out the imperfection of the day, the possibility of disappointment around the bend, the possible foolishness inherent in my glee--i pushed it away. no, i thought. fuck you, i thought. let me feel joy. let me hold onto it for once. let me believe it for once. let me just be...for once.
the best days are the ones when the joy is not manufactured. it might not even be expected. the best days are when my joy jumps out of my throat before my brain can hold it down with "sensibleness" or "reality" or "let's be realistic". the best days are when joy radiates out of my heart and makes everything feel...okay. when joy just appears...in the moment...not attached to an outcome...just "oh hey! this is great! right now is great! don't you feel that?". when the worries i had the day before are lost in a soup of...well...just overall good feeling.
the best days are few and far between for me. but as i get older and as i become less interested in feeling less than amazing, they are become more frequent. little by little.
this morning i danced in the shower and sang i'm so excited as i got dressed and i don't know if this day will be as joyful as yesterday, but i love how the best days often rub off on other days. and i'm happy to be feeling the joy as long as possible.