"You must celebrate tonight," the horoscope directed.
Celebrate? It's not my birthday. What do I have to celebrate?
Not only that, but I'm on my own in a small English village in the countryside. There's not a whole lot of places to celebrate outside the church and the pub.
If I were to go to the pub on my own, is that really celebrating?
Or is that just lame?
But then a text came with an invitation, "Will you meet me for a drink at the pub tonight?"
We'd only met once before, but in our brief introduction we'd both recognized a connection. She was a university student, full of questions. She had so many dreams, so many things she wanted to do, so many experiences she wanted to have.
Turns out I'd done a lot of those same things myself - so there was much for us to discuss.
We sat in that 13th century pub, with its long history of people gathering over drink to discuss life. And discuss life we did.
Life, love, music, art, dreams, books, cosmos, and gods. I love these conversations.
We ignored the church bells next door as they chimed each hour, warning us that the night was growing long. We laughed and cried and raised our glasses to friendship. And by the time we left, we could both see life a little more clearly, though we did wobble a bit as we walked home.
It was a fine celebration. #workingartist