Birthday Reflection

"Those who find gratitude in the little things, find humility in the big things."  Lidia Logorio

 In preparation for the big day ahead, time and care were taken in braiding tiny braids tied with string all over my head. When unraveled my hair fell in tight waves just beyond my shoulders. Anticipation of friends from school and my current neighborhood, as well as a few that have kept in touch from my old home in Marysville, grows heavy.  When everyone has finally arrived, we head out on the back patio armed with the ghettoblaster prepared to play a mix of pop and 80s top hits.  The dance moves emerged as they do from a not-yet self-conscious teen, as my ten-year-old self extrapolates her best moves from square dancing learned in school, the new hitchhiker dance which ends up being a lot of thumb wagging and not much else and mostly endless hopping and jumping reminiscent of the Irish Rovers watched religiously on Sunday nights.  The dancing flare or uninhibited movement I am trying on is captured in a still frame in my mind that and when  I see it now, I am transported to my tenth birthday party like it was yesterday and at the same time, a lifetime ago.  

In a few days from writing this, I will celebrate my fifty-third birthday.  Fifty-three times around the sun, 27,856.800 minutes of living, adding another 365 days.   There may indeed be some dancing again, without any more advanced moves you can be assured but it remains a truth that I still feel the same exuberance for being alive and finding my way here to celebrate again.  The big party celebrations for birthdays were not the majority of the year's experience for me so maybe this is why this one stands out.   Birthdays have held no less important as the years pass but they have become something more sacred to share and reflect on.  I am sure, regardless of how much someone enjoys a party,  they can never be as invested in someone else's mortality so I like to sink into this solo. 

Ross Gay gave himself an invitation on his birthday to write, by hand, a daily delight. This collection spanning one year became a compilation of his favorite, titled, The Book of Delights.  Thank you Heidi Robbins for sharing this.    I have yet to read the book but was inspired by the idea, to go back to my own gratitude journal from the past year and select only one of the five items I list each night to create a year's life list.  It became a much more daunting task than I had anticipated. Some days there were only one or two-word descriptions; hot baths, podcasts, full moon, thrift finds, yoga Nidra, silence, tea advent, doing nothing, love, rest, replenish, snowy walk, cinnamon buns, foot rubs, my people. Other times, there was such detail that the words and memory came to land softly somewhere close like; getting lost in a book on a hammock, a sublime cup of tea with a heart-to-heart chat, sunshine with warmth still invested on a fall day, an amazing sunrise on a cool morning run, candles and conversation starters over supper, a laugh with my daughter about a pumpkin carving episode, a dear friends kind words and invested presence, a dragonfly lingering on the edge of my kayak.   I started to notice themes evolving in my list, places my attention continued to hug, and the people and things I wanted to savor.

The walks that scattered the pages to Odell, the Woodlot, the park by my house, walks with family, and friends, good talk walks, windy walks and walks sorting out thoughts, feelings, and next steps.  Oh, and the food that came off the pages with fall soups, market samosas and street pad thai, greek meals, pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, homemade pies with seasonal berries, Milda's pizza, vegan poutine from Dee's Quiet Cafe Food Truck, homemade cauliflower alfredo sauce,  and banana ice cream made by Grace are only a few of the edible delights enjoyed. Then there were the people; the students, the colleagues, the family, friends, strangers, and fur babies.  Their acts of kindness, their time, help, love, commitment, and presence.   

The word yoga was probably mentioned most days with the teaching of a class, a notable instructor, practice, mentor, meditation, thought or clarity that came with making space in my body. Besides walking I was grateful for all the ways I moved my body, especially after a previous year's injury, like biking, dancing, and swimming. Activities infused with passions like painting, writing, cooking, knitting, gardening, reading, and resting all waited to grace the list too.  Big events were few when I looked back and personal milestones were noteworthy but sparse as well. 

After this exercise of extracting one item from each day for the visual of my year,  I was struck by the fact that none of my worries, fears, concerns, or constraints were noted here. Neither was the heavy life news, the complaints, or supposed problems to solve.  I was not naive enough to think that there would ever be a year without them but recorded this way, my life looked more like a string of "tiny beautiful things", taken from the title of Cheryl Strayed book by the same name, that lived alongside and within all the other realities.   These were the things that may have been harder to find but so much more sound in creating a memorable year, a peaceful life.   The year I wanted to remember and take with me was marked by things I cared for and about. The many ways that grace found its way into my life and all the ordinary things that cut through illusion to bring light and understanding that life could be happening in this place and in these things, experiences, and people.  There is also such humility when light shines here.  We let so many things cloud our perception and perspective of how a life can be lived and loved even in the dimmer-shaded times that are part of our full experience. 

Feeling ever nostalgic for the past versions of me that have continued to witness and celebrate all of the tiny beautiful things, I am drawn to the lyrics of the Joni Mitchell song, she recently sang again at 73 years old after a brain tumor.  "Well something's lost but something's gained in living every day. I've looked at life from both sides now. From win and lose and still somehow. It's life's illusions I recall. I really don't know life at all". What I hear in this beautiful lyric is that the journey we are all on as we gather the years of life each time we pass the sun will always be full of the tiny beautiful things for us to bear witness to and experience in this human body we have through our senses and awareness. We will look at them through many lenses before we see the truth of them and over and over again we will be humbled by this life and the gift that it is.

I can't leave a birthday reflection without a wish for both you and me.  My wish is this, may our gratitude for all of the tiny beautiful things hold us, and may equanimity be our practice for all of the ways life unfolds.