Turning is never as simple as it sounds.
Turning is something you have to do when you take your driver’s license test. And I learned in driver’s education class (this is the only thing I remember) that you cannot safely turn a car faster than 25 miles per hour. So it’s a slow move.
If someone is “turning a page” in life, they are probably making some sacrifices, maybe trying to forget some past pain or mistake, or simply tired of where they have been.
Turning indicates significant change. Turning off the computer. Turning into someone else. Turning around.
There is a song in the musical Les Miserables that is titled Turning. It’s a song that the women’s chorus sings in rounds. The notes are high and somewhat shrill and you aren’t soothed by the sound. In fact, the song makes me anxious and in context, it is sad and defeated.
I don’t love the sound of turning.
Twirling, on the other hand, has completely different connotations. In my simplest, most honest moments, I often wish I was twirling. Even right now.
Twirling is beautiful. It’s freeing. Just the sound of the word brings a smile. Twirling doesn’t change who you are, I think it releases you to be open to anything.
I think of Kathleen Kelly from You’ve Got Mail. She loved to twirl. And if there is one fictional character that I find myself wishing I knew in real life, it is absolutely Kathleen Kelly.
According to the calendar, I turn thirty this month. My emotions have surprised me and the turn is harder than I expected- maybe something like making a right hand turn in your car going 65 mph.
I’ve watched some friends turn thirty with much grace, almost like a delicate curtsy into a new chapter of life. Yet my turn has looked more like a dead end involving scabbed knees and tears. If I was to use very dramatic wording, I would say it has been awful.
For many-a-reason that I’ll explain if we ever sit down to coffee, I just don’t want to turn.
So I’m choosing to twirl. I am not turning thirty, I’m twirling thirty.
I’m changing my vocabulary because of how it changes my mind. Twirling thirty sounds much more elegant, more free, more beautiful. I know it sounds kind of silly, but it works with my heart.
So, with a changed outlook and a brighter attitude, I am twirling thirty years old.
I purchased a cornflower blue dress for my birthday party. It has pockets with white embroidery and delicate white stitching across the bodice. It’s knee length with a sweet A-line that falls in just the right way. It feels soft and mature and lovely.
It’s perfect for twirling.