contemplating life
It’s my birthday today :) I am 45, and even better, I feel 45, in the best ways. 44 was starting to feel a little worn. 44 was burned out and miserable at her corporate job, and then started training for something new and then quit her job and then spent the past few months figuring out life again. I honor you, 44. And now, here we are, ticked up one notch, and it feels right.
A memory latched on to me for this birthday. On the eve of my sixth or seventh birthday (6-7,! My kids will love that I’m starting this story this way), my parents attended an event and hired a babysitter for us. For some reason I cannot recall who this sitter was-we didn’t have her babysit enough for us that I remember her name, almost 40 years later. She was a teenager, and in the 80s, teenagers were incredibly, incredibly cool. And yes, I could be saying this because I was under the age of 10 and therefore this was my decade of looking at older kids and admiring them. But also, hello, it was the 80s, and what group better exemplified the culture of the time than teenagers?
There is a scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off where Principal Rooney calls a phone number for Sloane’s house, and the answering machine tape plays a message where Sloane is crying as she explains there has been a death in the family, all to trick him (you remember the scene I am talking about?). In that sweep of the camera shot across the surface where the phone sits, there is a charm bracelet, seemingly tossed on the dresser, one of those super plastic-y, clinky charm bracelets that were so popular then. Every time I watch that scene and see that charm bracelet, my heart skips a beat. That spirit, neon accessories and all, is what this babysitter brought into my consciousness. She was everything that was cool about teenagers in the 80s. And there she was, in our house.
My little sister had an earlier bedtime than me and so when it was time for me to get ready for bed, I had this babysitter all to myself. I was full of that “Santa is coming” excitement of childhood; I felt giddy that the next day was my birthday. I couldn’t settle. And this supercool, chic teenager sat on my bed with me as I chattered away. She went through my closet and helped me select my outfit for school the next day. I soaked in her attention and felt so special. She seemed excited herself, for my day, which then made me feel doubly-excited. To have someone like her be invested in my joy is something I’ve remembered all my life.
It’s funny- you think that it will be the big moments that stand out in memory over the years. But this little sliver of time, likely no longer than 30 minutes, is one of my favorite birthday memories.
My birthday glimmers look different now, especially this year as I am in what is feeling like a fairly vulnerable space, gearing up to start my coaching business. I feel like wrapping myself in a blanket like a burrito- which really is the opposite of reaching for my best outfit. Maybe that babysitter is coming to my mind because I’d love to be back with her again. This time around though, I soak in her positivity and enthusiasm for what I have been doing to get my business set up. She decides to hang with me because she believes that this phase in my life is worth celebrating. She is still so cool, and in being around her, I wonder if maybe I might still be cool too.
Instead of burrowing beneath my comforter, wrestling with insecurity and uncertainty (a squirmy pair to hold on to, if you ask me), perhaps what I need most is to crimp my hair and declare this space as mine. It’s what my babysitter showed me, her confidence and exuberance filling my room like a rising tide. Our emotions alert us to unmet needs. I need this.
April birthdays are the best, because everything is popping this week. The leaves are coming out in the trees. There are daffodils and tulips and hyacinths already starting to dip from the weight of their own brilliance. The delicate unfolding of spring is temporary- ‘Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold” as Robert Frost reminds us. The desire to stop and savor gets stronger for me each year. I walked my son to school this morning and invited him to stop and smell some lilacs with me. He resisted at first (because what 13 year old boy opts for this on their walk to school?) and I told him that what I wanted most for my birthday was for him to smell the flowers with me. It was as threatening as I could be when talking about flowers. And I must have been persuasive enough, because he did.
My birthday fell on a Saturday the year when my daughter was in a Saturday morning community program at the Joffrey Ballet. She happened to be around the same age I was when I had my birthday eve with my babysitter, and she bounced along with me on Randolph after we got off the bus, picking up on my birthday aura. After dropping her off, I ducked into the Argo teashop down the street (It was located in that strange-looking Swiss chalet-style building on Randolph west of State Street, which now houses a Blick art supplies store). The teashop had an upstairs area, and during those Saturdays when my daughter was in ballet, I could tuck into a corner on the second floor and find complete stillness and quiet.
On this particular Saturday, my birthday, I happened to be nearing the end of the book The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer. I ordered my tea, snuggled into my spot upstairs, and opened up to where I’d left off, which was right at the start of the chapter titled “Contemplating Death.” I read the entire chapter in that one sitting. What a gift it was- on the day of my birth, to consider our lives and the nonnegotiable concept of our deaths. The vibration of that chapter filled me with a hum for life. I have re-read the book since then, and felt a similar reaction to this chapter the second time through.
“If you challenge yourself to live as though it were your last week, your mind may come up with all kinds of suppressed desires. It may start talking about all the things that you’ve always wanted to do, and you may think you had better go do them. You will soon see that’s not the answer. You have to understand that it is your attempt to get special experiences from life that makes you miss the actual experience of life. Life is not something you get; it’s something you experience. Life exists with or without you. It has been going on for billions of years. You simply get the honor of seeing a tiny slice of it.”
I heard recently that instead of asking the question, “What would you do if today was your last?”, you can reframe it to-
“What would you do if today was your FIRST?”
And my answer, in this moment?
I would throw on a charm bracelet and head out the door.
