Crooked Carrots

A Birthday Meditation on Imperfection, Dreams, and the Buddhist Path

Birthdays have a funny way of sneaking up on you, don’t they? One moment, you’re living your everyday life, and the next, you’re staring at a number that feels simultaneously meaningless and monumental. Another year around the sun.

Another year of lessons learned, some harder than others.

This year, as I sit with my birthday thoughts, I’m drawn to a quiet practice I’ve been cultivating—a simple act of setting aside a little time each day to dream. To close my eyes, to visualize not just what I want but how I want to be: kind, intentional, and open to the world’s imperfections.

I’ve realized that this practice isn’t about doing it perfectly. It’s not about getting the visualization “right” or even being certain about what I’m dreaming for. It’s simply about showing up, about giving my dreams a little time and attention.

Because here’s the thing: even when I feel distracted or unsure, the act itself is enough. By the time I open my eyes, somewhere in the unseen, huge wheels have already begun turning.

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The Crooked Carrot of Dreams

This idea—that the smallest acts of care and attention ripple out in unseen ways—reminds me of my work with surplus vegetables. The crooked carrots and lumpy potatoes that others overlook have become my daily meditation on imperfection and abundance.

Saving them isn’t glamorous work. It’s messy and mundane, but it’s also sacred.

Each crooked carrot represents a choice: to see abundance instead of waste, to believe in the potential of what others discard. And isn’t that what dreaming is, too?

Choosing to believe in possibilities, even when they feel far away or imperfectly formed?

Buddhism’s Eightfold Path teaches us that clarity and intention matter. Right View—seeing the world as it truly is—reminds me to recognize the beauty in imperfection. Right Intention—thinking with compassion and purpose—reminds me to act in ways that align with my dreams, even when the steps feel small or uncertain.

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The Quiet Turning of Wheels

Birthdays often feel like a reckoning: What have I accomplished? What am I still working toward? What have I left undone?

But this year, I’m trying to focus less on what’s finished and more on what’s turning.

Every day that I spend visualizing my dreams—whether it’s creating a world where no one goes hungry, or simply being a gentler version of myself—I trust that wheels are turning. As Rebecca Solnit writes, “Hope is not a lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky. It is an ax you break down doors with in an emergency.”

Dreaming is my ax, my quiet rebellion against the chaos of life. It’s my way of saying, “Even if I don’t have all the answers, I believe the answers are coming.”

Building the Raft

The Eightfold Path is often likened to a raft, carrying us from the shores of suffering (dukkha) to the shores of peace.

For me, this birthday feels like a moment of raft-building—gathering the pieces of my life, my work, my dreams, and fitting them together in a way that feels steady and true.

The crooked carrots remind me that nothing has to be perfect to be worthy. The act of dreaming reminds me that every small moment of care matters. Together, they carry me forward, one imperfect step at a time.

A Birthday Wish

So, on this birthday, my wish is not just for myself but for all of us: May we embrace the crooked carrots of life, the imperfect dreams, and the messy work of turning intention into action.

May we trust that even when we can’t see the wheels turning, they are moving us closer to what matters.

And may we never forget that abundance isn’t about having more; it’s about seeing what’s already here and daring to believe it’s enough.