Today is my 49th birthday. And I don't really have anything to say. I've reflected on it throughout the day and I thought inspiration would come, but it really didn't. I spent much of the day on my own which was my choice. I checked Facebook every once in awhile because it seemed to me that people were wishing me a happy birthday almost desperately, as if it may be my last. It is likely that I am experiencing it this way rather than it actually being, but it occurs to me that birthdays are strange things.
People rush, sometimes hundreds of people, rush to tell you how important you are and how important your birth is to them. It's lovely and a little, I don’t know, sad. Not so much sad as, well...fucked up! What the hell happened to the other 364 days? I'm present for all of them and I'm as lovable, charming, and engaging as I am on April 2nd every year. And it's not like I don’t know the people in my life, and on Facebook and Instagram and Twitter, are out there, supporting me, loving me in a way. But to have them, all at once, celebrate you...well let’s be clear...yell at you, demanding that you have a SPECTACULAR DAY, compelling you to MAKE IT A GREAT ONE or insisting THIS IS IT…!!! No kidding, at one point I was visibly shaken. I mean that is crazy pressure. Come on!
And this year it actually scared me. Seriously. Because I was sure I couldn’t live up to it. And I was right. It was a fine day...sunny and relaxing. But SPECTACULAR? GREAT? THIS IS IT? Not even close.
So now what? Am I obligated to let people know? I mean I tried, I took my best shot, but I just couldn’t get the juice. And does this admission mean they get to yell at me some more?
I don't know. 48 was the beginning of so much change and that change continues to roll through my life like a river, so today I needed quiet. Safety. Downtime. It is what I gave myself, and my friends Jen and Leah encouraged me to listen to my spirit and support my soul. But I was raised to deprive my spirit so that others would like me or crush my spirit so that someday others might even love me, that ultimate manipulation and subversion happened upon children of drunks and addicts, untreated narcissists and manic depressives, placing our divinity on the ground to serve as happy little doormats for the damaged to march across…
But not today. No, today was fine. It was a fine birthday. It was my birthday. Mine. My spirit wanted it and I made sure it got it. So no it wasn’t GREAT or SPECTACULAR or IT...but it was mine, and because of that, I can celebrate 49.
Please note: I am so grateful for all of the love directed my way today, even if the love came in all-caps. Thank you for your kind wishes!