Birthday…
Anyone who knows me, knows that I do not “do” my birthday. I’m not against birthdays for others. In fact, I really enjoy celebrating someone else’s birthday. Not so much my own. I’ve been this way for a pretty long time and I honestly feel like I should’t have to change just because people don’t understand. Because I’m on Facebook, I get a slew of birthday wishes and each one makes me smile. Someone took a minute out of their day to wish me good tidings. That’s sweet and I’m not so ornery that I don’t appreciate it. This past month has been different. Yes, I’m getting older. We each do with every passing day. Maybe that’s part of it or maybe there’s something else going on. I’m hoping this blog helps me figure it out.
One of the things I feel we celebrate at a birthday are the accomplishments of the birthday girl or boy. At a very young age I think parents celebrate the blessing of having the child and perhaps that they’ve survived another year! And that would be both sides of the relationship survived - parents and child! I say it in jest but there is a truth to it. I think we also like the tradition of the “counting” of years - birthday cake and candles, presents, games, friends. They’re all symbols of a life well lived, even at the earliest ages. And for me, that is the hardest part of the birthday. The years. My age. The fear that I haven’t done enough, become enough, am successful enough.
A few weeks ago my mom and I went to a birthday party for a longtime friend who turned 100! She was still looking good although not as spry as the last time I saw her. Her family and friends took turns getting up and telling stories of her life. On the monitors played a montage of photographs from over the years. Her family spoke of her as head of the family and all she did for them. Others spoke of her political career and how she helped pave the way for women in my tiny town. (She was the first female mayor and a very good mayor.) I thought it was interesting that a big chunk of her life was barely mentioned. For a long number of years, she was the secretary at my elementary school. That was the reason for the group of teachers and some students who attended the party and it amounted to nothing in the celebration of her life. I wonder why. Is it because being mayor was so much grander a success than being a secretary? Was it dismissed by the mostly male speakers because it was so much “lower” than her political career and being matriarch of a large family? If so, then they missed it completely. There are so many children who went through that school (kindergarten to grade eight) who knew her, loved her, counted on her, would pop into her office just to say hi, and still think of the school and her together, as a unit.
And that, sums up part of my problem with birthdays. It’s not the day as much as it is the celebration of success. I’ve always had a clear definition in my head of what success looks like and it’s not me. I’ve spoken about that before in my blogs and I have yet to truly reconcile my thoughts, goals, and reality. Before I get there, though, let me tell another story. I’m Catholic, I’ve mentioned it many times, and I try to attend Mass every weekend. There’s a gospel reading I dislike - the story of the prodigal son. It has always bothered me that a person who has left and squandered should come back and be welcomed without hesitation. Why should someone who has worked and toiled and given all be expected to take a back seat when the prodigal son returns and is treated equally? [If you’re wondering what this has to do with my birthday, stick around. I promise I will get there.] Now, I recognize that my attitude might not be very Christian and I admit that bothers me. I just have never been able to shake the feeling that the prodigal son is like so many I’ve encountered over the years. Moving up the ladder without earning it. Not being held accountable for bad behaviour. Feeling entitled. Those are attitudes and behaviours I see regularly and they have always wormed their way under my skin and that’s why the prodigal son bothers me so much. Let me tell you what I realized in the last few weeks as I contemplated my birthday.
All I have control over is me. The only person I should be comparing myself to is the me I was yesterday. All I can do is my best. When I look in the mirror, I only see me. At the end of the day if I’m going to be bent out of shape about what I see as inequities in a system then I’m going to spend the majority of my life upset. The world is not fair. It will never be fair and it’s about time I come to grips with that fact. I MUST stop comparing myself to others. I MUST start seeing success through my own eyes instead of a comparison with where someone else is or how they got there. I do not know their whole story anymore than they know mine. Human beings are always judging one another and while I don’t think judgement can be completely pushed aside I do think how I look at myself has to be different.
And that’s when I decided to really look at myself. My life. My gifts. My relationships. My successes. I have a great son who is doing everything he can to find his way, to support his partner, to enjoy life while he can. He is one of the hardest working people I know. I taught him the value of hard work. I gave him many opportunities to try out ideas, to be creative, to learn and to fail. I gave him love each and every day no matter how hard it was. I celebrated his accomplishments and to this day consider him my greatest success.
When I chose to leave my represented position I did it because I wanted to make that area of our company better. I wanted to participate in strategizing the improvements and contribute to implementing them in a successful manner. I walked away from money and membership in an elite group. I recognized that I am not a person who needs to take advantage of or work a system. Success.
When my son was young I was still digging out financially. There were times when I didn’t sleep well because I didn’t know how I would pay the bills. When I lucked out and bought a house for us, I said prayers of thanksgiving. I figured there would never be an opportunity for me to buy a house. Never. And now I’m in the type of house I always dreamed of - an old, history laden house that is begging to be cared for, to be honoured. It is a very slow process. There are days when I’m a little embarrassed by the dust or the state of the floors but it is mine (and the bank’s!) and I still say prayers of thanksgiving for the opportunity to create my dream home. I wanted to make this house an elegant showcase of heritage. It was the poor people’s house, of that I am sure. It will never be sophisticated but I believe it is becoming something better. It is warm and welcoming and lived in. It is not meant to be in a magazine. It is meant to be the place where you walk through the door and you find peace. Success.
After four long years I finally found a new work home. It’s a department filled with intelligent, passionate people. They are excited about the work they are doing and have welcomed me with open arms. I’m still trying to find my way but there are so many aspects that give me hope. It matters what I want to do. It matters that I have and pursue goals and dreams. There is gratitude when a request is answered. There is a pat on the back when it’s done well. I never realized how important those things are and now that I’ve found them each day is better. I won that competition (and yes, in this world there will always be competition of some form) and I take credit for that. Success.
My last romantic relationship was not good. I let myself get bowled over and thankfully, it ended before I completely lost myself. Would I like to have someone in my life? Yes, I would. Do I go looking? No, not really. Do I NEED someone? NO! I do very well on my own. I am rarely lonely. I am happy in my own company. Would it be fun to share? Of course, but I don’t need to share, which I think is important to recognize. I think people who cannot live with themselves are sad. I think the best way to go into or be in a relationship is to know that you can be on your own. Maybe I will find love. I don’t know but I do know that I am good alone. Success.
What I’ve learned this week is that a birthday isn’t a one-day celebration. It shouldn’t be about how you look (my, doesn’t she look good for her age??), it shouldn’t be about the candles on the cake, it shouldn’t be about the gifts that are given. A birthday should be a chance to look in the mirror and say, I’ve made it another year. I’m doing okay. I am flawed and okay with that. I am learning. I am growing. I am a success by any definition. While I’m still a work in progress and can’t just drop all of my feelings about my particular birthday, I’m going to embrace it, as much as I can.
Yesterday was my birthday. For the first time in a very long time I decided to acknowledge and celebrate my birthday. I chose to pamper myself by taking an extra long weekend. Over the course of two days, I spent a solo day at a spa (European, not North American) with a good book and enjoyed all the amenities on offer, was invited to join some ladies for dinner and said yes, got my nails done (I almost never do that!), had lunch out, got my hair done, and visited with three of my uncles. It was almost perfect. [Unfortunately, my mom came down with an awful bug and was unable to join me. And I must say, that with everything that goes on in my head I had to compartmentalize my worries for her and let myself enjoy my extra long weekend.]
Yesterday, on my birthday, I had some friends join me for a shopping day and lunch at my place. Now, to be honest, I didn’t tell them it was my birthday, but I did order a birthday cake from my favourite bakery! I decided to go with my gut and I shared that it was my birthday and my longer friends were slightly shocked and my new friends were surprised that it was normally a non-day. It was hard for me but it turned out great. We got to know each other better, had lots of fun, and enjoyed a pretty hearty and healthy lunch! When they left I felt good. Good about myself. Good about the celebration. Good about my friends. Because that’s another incredible success in my life. I am surrounded by some of the most amazing people. I have a family that has so many diverse approaches to life and so much talent that it’s quite astonishing. And my friends? Some of the best people on this planet. They are funny and smart and caring and more than willing to tell me when I’m wrong. That is huge. Any person with that many blessings in her life is successful.
Every day we grow a little older. There is absolutely no way around it. For me, it wasn’t about that but about feeling like I’ve accomplished what I had hoped to by whichever birthday has come around. With the love I have of writing, the home that I am developing, the people I have in my life, how can I consider myself anything but successful? How can I NOT celebrate my accomplishments? So, this year I am.
This is the saltwater floatation pool at the spa. If you ever get the opportunity to try this out, do!!
The new solar lamp is working beautifully!
The new lamp worked out perfectly for a Hallowe’en scene!
Another picture from the spa. This is one of the rest areas. Perfect place to relax with a good book!
The evolution of creamy Irish vegetable soup. Made it for the first time and served it at. my birthday lunch. Delicious!
Every birthday deserves a delicious cake and my favourite bakery outdid themselves with mine!
The shopping day with my girlfriends was so much fun! I found this knit basket at the craft market - perfect in my bathroom and exactly what I’ve been looking for to hold all my bubble baths!