Curious days of celebration

56 laps around the sun

If we believe Google, birthday’s are a day of celebration of life, of our existence, to mark the occasion of our arrival onto this wild & unpredictable planet.

I arrived on this planet, 56 years ago today, in Sydney, NSW.

I had two older sisters at the time, 11 months apart & five years later I arrived. Another 5 years would pass, when 2 more siblings arrived. Yep, smack bang in the middle. I was by all accounts, a typical middle child;

• Sociable

• Good at mediating

• Trustworthy

• Creative / innovative / lots of ideas (that’s me)

• Fiercely independent

• Extreme adaptability (survival instincts)

• Deep unconditional love & loyalty

• Rebellious

• Strong sense of justice & fairness

Along with all the positives, also prone to feelings of inadequacy & low self worth. This can often drive a middle child’s constant pursuit of self improvement.

Of the 56 birthday’s not all were days of celebration. In fact, I can’t remember too many occasions I actually felt it was a worthy of a hip, hip hooray. It’s always seemed like forced effort or a last minute forgotten something, the older I became.

There were many times I reassured, I’d much prefer a heart felt letter or card over a gift I don’t need. Birthday’s never seemed to be about my day, rather often an opportunities for others to go big & bold, for the giver to say ‘well at least I tried’, even if you end up with something costing you more.

Twice I had relationships with men who didn’t believe in celebrating or informed me, they were never celebrated themselves. Such is the way with human behaviour, we only know what we’ve become accustomed to. I began to dread my birthday’s arrival & weight it became. As if it were an item on a last minute list.

I tried never to allow these experiences to impact my parenting or the messages my children learned from their childhood’s about the celebration of their birth.

When times were tough raising a single parent household, so tough birthday gifts were hard to come by, I ‘tried’ to think how could I show my children their arrival into my world, our world, was a day to celebrate.

I’d wrap streamers around the doorway or all over their room while they slept, a web of colour & trail leading to somewhere like the kitchen table, where a basket of favourite things was placed e.g. magazine or food or whatever I could make or bring to their table.

Although, as previous partners emphasised (or excused), not everyone celebrates birthday’s.

If so, why should celebrating the day of your birth matter?

Societal expectations and religious beliefs underpin waving the day by, as just another day. Jehovah’s Witness, Buddhism, Islam, some Christian Orthodox churches, believe birthday’s as a secular tradition & not sanctioned by their faith.

There are those whose day of birth, is an experience of depression. Negative experiences, family breakdown, separation, trauma, tragedy; birth’s are not always positively meaningful or enjoyable. There are many, with no reason to celebrate.

Despite your day of arrival, our childhood experiences, even the lack lustre relationships, time reveals as nothing more than unhealthy, validating your existence is important. Validating your importance & presence in this world, is good for your mental wellbeing (if not contradicting your faith).

You can reframe the history and reshape self importance. Validation increases self-esteem, reduces negative emotions; we feel seen, heard, valued. Celebrating your day of birth, fosters internal validation.

Suppress it all you like (some of us master suppression until that cup overflows). Emotional regulation, is closely related to your self worth & identity.

Knowing who we are, why we are & where we fit into the big picture supports context & understanding; can defuse those negative emotions, increase calm & improve mental wellbeing. Validation of you matters! Your existence matters!

My oldest two favourite memories of celebrating my birth, are the day I received my first bike & years later, a horse riding saddle. I now know & appreciate just how tough it must have been to celebrate birthdays when you have a large family. What I remember most, is not the items, the cost of difference; it was love dressed in time & effort.

All my friend’s had bikes, my older siblings had brand new bikes. I really dreamt of a new bike, like my siblings had, like my younger siblings ended up with.

I was middle of 5 children. By the time I was dreaming of bike possibilities, I was in high school, first year and there were 5 mouths to feed & birthdays to celebrate.

My Dad spent hours on pulling apart different bikes, working away in his shed; building my own, painting it & making it new. It wasn’t a shop bought bike, it was however, like no other bike. Of course I was teased, it wasn’t a new bike. Shortly after, I started walking more than riding my bike. The same year, I took up horse riding, when someone offered to exercise their horse.

I look back now & wish I still had that bike. The effort it must have taken, the time, the energy; there was little my Dad couldn’t make or fix (mechanically).

The year I received the saddle, I was asked to join my parents at a clearing sale just before my birthday. I really didn’t want to go (how many teens want to hang out with their parents on the weekends?). I know now, just how much it took to come home with a new saddle, juggle my love of riding, gymkhanas, eventing & camps, along with the needs of siblings. It took becoming a parent, to really grasp just how hard the struggle is.

It was only a short time later, I had a fairly significant accident on a friend’s horse & lost my nerve. The leather became hard as the saddle & all the savings I had spent on double rein bridles & anything ‘horsey’, sat in boxes until over a decade later, when my parents parted with it all.

Fifty six laps around the sun. 56.

I am curious, is there more? Does celebrating really matter & how can I celebrate my existence?

I reflect on every decade before. Who was I at 46, 36, 26,16 and 6.

Where have I been, who did I become. Am I where I hoped to be. Am I happy? What would I do differently?

The ego speaks loud. Will I still matter, if I am not celebrated or if there is no validation?

In Buddhist tradition, birthday’s can be perceived as egotistical.This goes towards answering my curiosity above, Yes, millions can survive without validating their birthday.

In Buddhism, to celebrate your own birthday is considered selfish, in a religion grounded in detachment. Curious however, given the religion also focusses on the cyclical nature of life & the celebration of Buddha’s birth, interesting how irony show up in all aspects of human life, continually in religion.

Buddha, as an ordinary human being, achieving enlightenment, is celebrated, just not other human beings on their path to nirvana.

I am furthermore curious, does this suggest never good enough until you achieve greatness or enlightenment? How different is this to other ego driven pursuits of success, marriage, possessions, career goals; the house, the car, the list goes on; until you achieve ‘this’ your existence is not worthy.

Calling the B.S. out here.

It would appear, regardless of which religion you choose or why, even as atheist, somewhere in the fine print are expectations of who you should be according to the social norms & beliefs you practice. Note - Some Buddhists celebrate birthdays.

Those partners who tell you ‘we didn’t celebrate birthday’s in my family’, if it matters to you, then celebrate.

Do not meet your own needs by compromising using the expectations of others, you are worth more & deserve more. You are worthy of validation.

The only rules for celebrating yourself, acknowledging your existence, is those you impose. You decide. Just you.

It’s either your ego or religiocentrisms or maybe you actually, really matter. Your birth is of greatness. You are a living being, your arrival to this wild planet is worthy of celebration.

I am writing to you on this 56th lap around the sun.

I spend the morning honouring myself. I acknowledge my presence; I am still here, regardless of the weight on my heart at present. The falls, the climbs back up, the knocks back down. I am still here, as exhausting as it feels right now. I am worthy of celebration.

I flick through old photos, try to spark memories of times past, who was I back then, how did I get here. I find the old pictures in my riding competition outfit, the house where my bike was built, memories of past laps around the sun. It sparks moments when birthdays were not a burden to be carried.

The older I become, the more I reflect, the greater I am curious about all things which impact & sustain life.

I ponder will it ever feel like a joy filled occasion, where I did not have to get up early to treat myself (when I am always up early). What will those days look like, how will it feel, to be enough, no matter the years that pass.

I put in my ear plus, find Ziggy Alberts (Laps around the Sun);

“Lately I've been worried
I don't know where to it is that I do belong
Lately I've been too busy
To smell the bottle brush
Just chasing laps around the sun
I've sat here and cried, salt running from my eyes
Wondering, "How the fuck will I end up”

At 56 I want to let go of the reins. It’s time to celebrate, not one day, every day.

Wild & free was my mantra, where did it go?

The middle child survival instinct has been tamed by negative experiences, surviving toxic, unhealthy relationships & places I existed, rather than thrived.

I look at the pictures of her, when I no longer cared for hair bands, wild as the wind, a younger me, a wilder; carefree, me.

Every so often, she re appears, like re-surfacing for air.

My body shifts when I walk among the wildness of the planet, with nothing other than the voice of trees; the voice I silenced for far too long whispers “let go”.

The noise of my middle child brain quietens, when I’ve opened the throttle, dart down tree lined roads, to sit on lookouts where waves crash, where life feels like a celebration. What I wouldn’t give to have another Harley sitting in the driveway.

My liberation has been a long time in the making. Two steps forward, 1 back on repeat.

The concept of being born onto this planet to be wild & free, to be liberated. I am lab quality example, of the human capacity to adapt, to transcend limitations, to continue to fuel my innate sense of self-determination, regardless of the speed bumps & falls I’ve taken. ‘You are worthy’ whispers from deep within.

Celebrate your freedom, validate your existence.

Evolutionary theory suggests our freedom is as connected to our bodies as oxygen keeps us alive.

Freedom to choose.

Freedom to celebrate.

Freedom to exist as you need.

Freedom to be.

Freedom is not a product of religion or metaphysical, is neither philosophical or behavioural. Freedom to be ourselves is fundamental to our existence.

To exist, we must be free to be ourselves.

Yet here I am. 56 laps around the sun.

Not many of those laps did I ever feel free. I can see now (as I unpack these curious thoughts on celebrating birthdays) how allowing the expectations of others, to smother my self belief, esteem & worth, has robbed me of more than just a birth day to celebrate.

You matter. I matter. We matter.

Your birth date matters, as little power over that as you had.

Making peace with the day, the emotions that arise as a result, creates forward movement; time for it to be joyous, heart felt & true to yourself.

Your existence is a marvel of life.

Embrace the ego, let the ‘I’ speak.

Tell yourself the freedom to be yourself is vital to your existence; has the power to shift depressed states, negative emotions & improve your self worth.

Celebrating you, is good for your mental health.

My celebration today is to give myself time to contemplate the lessons I’ve learned in the last year about others, about myself & when I look back next year on the year going forward, what do I want that to look like. Time matters. Time to stop wasting it.

More time for wild, more time for free.

A little more of a birthday emotional ramble through thoughts today, than curious wandering.

What could your take away be?

What would you change today, to feel more free, to be the most authentic version of yourself?

Go do that!

Happy birthday to me xo

Feel free to shout a coffee!!