A birthday poem for me

“Life has its own hidden forces which you can only discover by living.”

~Soren Kierkegaard

When you are a little kid and get to decide what you want your lucky number to be. Number four (4). A bright and shiny number. Has a small glow of positivity and joy radiating from it. A solid and confident, yet soft “f” sound at the beginning and a rolling, yet satisfying “r” sound at the end. And well, it is my mother’s lucky number too, so it must be a good choice. Yes, this will be my lucky number. The pride I feel when sharing with the world that 4 is MY number. I’m not totally sure what it means to have a lucky number, but I do take satisfaction in knowing that it’s mine and binds me like an invisible string to my mom. There is a sense of safety and warmth just in the declaration.

Fast forward umpteenth years and I’m now turning 44. A world behind me and a world yet ahead of me. I’m somewhere in the middle I suppose. And I can’t help but feel a small, yet satisfying feeling knowing that I’m stepping into a portal cloaked in good luck and small surprises this year.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I can feel the exhale in my chest. I survived a challenging year, professionally, personally and mental health wise. I stepped onto a roller coaster last year that I never signed up for and rode it anyways. In fits and starts, I protested for someone to stop the ride. To let me off, so I could fall asleep on the bench, parked alongside the moving colors and sounds of the carnival, and sleep while the world whisked by. But that did not happen. The roller coaster never did stop. It kept moving, amidst old bands’ music, the crashing sounds of children’s voices and the smell of cotton candy.

The carnival did come to a close eventually. The rides did slow down and I have been able to step off and catch my breath. I still find my chest and belly saturated with pressure at times, but the pace has quieted and I’m less afraid to open my eyes while going downhill or taking those unexpected turns.

—

A birthday wish or two for myself in this new year. To embrace the joys already in front of me. To let go of the genetic wiring of my “if only” mindset that has followed me around for so many years. “If only” I follow the right nutrition labels will I fall back in love with my body. “If only” I sign my daughter up for the “right” activity will she be on track to live her life more authentically. “If only” I take a class in x, y, or z, will I feel more fulfilled spiritually or intellectually, etc., etc., etc.

In this 45th year on earth, may I take more steps backwards to open my eyes to the bigger picture that is my life, and gain perspective. To be able to take in the full lot of what I’ve been given, and explore how I can be of service to others. For without this perspective, I’m at risk of being whisked away on another roller coaster. And goodness knows, at 44, my body will protest!