525,600 minutes. How do you measure a year?

The first time I heard that song, Seasons of Love, from the soundtrack of Rent I was in a jazz class at a Dance Masters Association convention in Daytona nearly ten years ago. It caused me to stop for a moment. I took mental note of the lyrics, but never really thought about them until many years later.

How do you measure a year? They measured it in daylights, in sunsets, in cups of coffee—in seasons of love. How do I measure a year?

Every year we watch the seasons change. Summer to fall. Winter to spring. Every year we watch the school year go round and catch up to us again. Football season and those ever so cheap summers of Thirsty Thursdays come and go. Even the theatre experiences the ebb and flow of a season. But what makes it all worth doing it again…and again…every season?

How do I measure a year?

I measure it in phone calls to my mom. I measure it in the funny and unnecessarily long voicemails I leave my roommate. I measure it in the hours I have spent in the dance studio. I measure it in those minutes in the morning when my cat Simon comes to wake me up with a gentle nuzzle…okay, so it’s more like a bite of the toe. But I digress.

I measure a year in the many opportunities I get to gaze up into the theatre during a performance and thank God I have this job. My year is measured in the laughter that permeates through my office and the picnics that begin my day. I measure my year in the smiles of my co-workers, the hugs from my family and the sweet surprise messages written on the side mirrors of my car. I measure a year in the moments right before I go to sleep when I remember how incredibly blessed I am.

It is not surprising that I measure my year with all the things I love. That song had it pretty right. I love my life and the people and experiences that have filled my years. 525,600 minutes and worth every moment.