Happy Birthday to Me! - Reclaiming Optimism
When I was growing up, birthdays were a really big deal. We were not wealthy by any stretch of any imagination, so our celebrations were fairly simple compared to today's grand, Pinterest inspired kids' birthday celebrations. Plus, it was the late 80's and early 90's. Even if people did have money, you just didn't do those over-the-top things for a kid's birthday party.
My favorite birthday celebration was when I was in 4th grade? and we rented a a clunky VCR and a copy of the movie Dirty Dancing from the local video store. My friends and I drank Dr. Pepper and watched Johnny Castle fall in love with Baby and make sure no one ever put her in a corner. Although my mom didn't agonize over a themed birthday party that included a craft, theme appropriate snacks, and a goody bag that rivaled the Oscars swag bags, she always made sure we felt special on our birthdays. I grew up believing my birthday rivaled Christmas on the awesomeness scale.
Even without Johnny Castle and the birthday party hoopla, birthdays are just fun when you're a kid. Birthdays are a signal that you are growing up. Like, really growing up. When you hit those double digits as a ten year old, you've entered the big time and the first time you actually get to include the word "teen" when you tell someone your age??? Nothing more exciting, really. Getting older was an adventure and each year was just one step closer to the greatest adventure of all - being a real, live grown up! Every birthday was greeted with hope and optimism and confidence in the bright, amazing future that was just beyond the horizon line separating my youth from my adulthood.
When I was very young, I didn't really think about what life would be like in the middle. I dreamed about college and marriage and starting a family and knew that someday I'd be old enough to want to retire, but the middle was just this sort of hazy, undefined plot line in my yet to be written life story. Unfortunately, things haven't gotten less hazy. In fact, after having lived through the initial crisis of the worst thing to ever happen in my life, it feels like this middle part of my life is just a series of question marks and exclamation points. This year, when February 1 rolled around, I didn't have the same hopeful feeling of anticipation that usually accompanied the beginning of my birth month. In fact, dread and fatigue were the emotions that came to the forefront instead. I had so much I had wanted to do before I was 40 years old and I had a clear vision of what life would be like and then... Here I am on February 25, 2016...hours away from being 38 years old. Thirty.eight.years.old?!?! and nothing has gone according to those hopeful, beautifully innocent plans.
It was then that I began to think about what I wanted my life to really be about in the end. Did I want it to be defined by this dark chapter? Did I really want people to remember me as this pathetic figure of pity? No. N-O. I am so much more than that, dammit. At a recent couples counseling session, I had expressed fears that the optimism and hope that I had clung to and nurtured my entire life had allowed me to be, well, stupid. The therapist said something that really got me thinking. I won't be able to quote him perfectly, but it was something like, "I don't really know your history, but I get the sense that things weren't always that easy for you and I would guess that it was your optimism that got you through those times." I hate when therapists are right. Optimism and hope are my bootstraps.
For my birthday, I want to reclaim optimism. I want to rekindle hope. I want to prove to myself that for every hint of darkness that I encounter in life, there is just so much light. I want to refocus my attention on the beauty that exists in this world. I want a reminder that our humanity allows us to do terrible, hurtful things to one another, but it also allows us to do amazingly kind, generous, selfless things too.
Here's how we do this thing, my friends. My birthday is now 1.5 hours away and I want that day to be just one giant love fest. I am asking my friends and my friends' friends, and my friends' friends' friends to do at least one Random Act of Kindness at some point on February 26. Because I'm not evolved enough to just trust that inspiring goodness will be enough, I am asking that your birthday gift to me be that you tell me about that kindness. Post about it on Facebook. Tweet about it. Instagram it. Selfies are an absolute must. Use #kindness4sara so I can find the posts and because hashtags are fun. Be silly. Be irreverent. Be kind. Be generous. Be all of the things I aspire to be every day of my life (and usually fall terribly short most of the time). This is exactly how I want to usher in the next year of my life and my hope is that it will set the tone for this year and many years to come.
Hopefully Yours,
Sara Renee
P.S. If you want to see all the cool things my friends and family will hopefully do tomorrow, follow the fun on this facebook event page or use the #kindness4sara. Thanks in advance for this gift...it will be more precious to me than anything that could be fit in a box. <3
My favorite birthday celebration was when I was in 4th grade? and we rented a a clunky VCR and a copy of the movie Dirty Dancing from the local video store. My friends and I drank Dr. Pepper and watched Johnny Castle fall in love with Baby and make sure no one ever put her in a corner. Although my mom didn't agonize over a themed birthday party that included a craft, theme appropriate snacks, and a goody bag that rivaled the Oscars swag bags, she always made sure we felt special on our birthdays. I grew up believing my birthday rivaled Christmas on the awesomeness scale.
Even without Johnny Castle and the birthday party hoopla, birthdays are just fun when you're a kid. Birthdays are a signal that you are growing up. Like, really growing up. When you hit those double digits as a ten year old, you've entered the big time and the first time you actually get to include the word "teen" when you tell someone your age??? Nothing more exciting, really. Getting older was an adventure and each year was just one step closer to the greatest adventure of all - being a real, live grown up! Every birthday was greeted with hope and optimism and confidence in the bright, amazing future that was just beyond the horizon line separating my youth from my adulthood.
Adulting Is Hard
Well, we all know how this story goes. Adulthood is just not what we dream about when we're pre-teens. It turns out that I did not become a pediatrician who traveled the world with the Peace Corps to save starving children and meet my very handsome and brilliant humanitarian husband while single handedly defeating patriarchy, capital punishment, and the overuse of aerosol. Even when it became clear that those dreams weren't coming true, I held on to optimism on each birthday. I convinced myself that even though stuff was kind of tricky now, the next year or next five years or next decade were sure to be better. When I was struggling with having three very small children at the age of 28, I just knew that if I could hold on for a few years it would all be okay. I mean, my 30's were bound to be my decade, right?When I was very young, I didn't really think about what life would be like in the middle. I dreamed about college and marriage and starting a family and knew that someday I'd be old enough to want to retire, but the middle was just this sort of hazy, undefined plot line in my yet to be written life story. Unfortunately, things haven't gotten less hazy. In fact, after having lived through the initial crisis of the worst thing to ever happen in my life, it feels like this middle part of my life is just a series of question marks and exclamation points. This year, when February 1 rolled around, I didn't have the same hopeful feeling of anticipation that usually accompanied the beginning of my birth month. In fact, dread and fatigue were the emotions that came to the forefront instead. I had so much I had wanted to do before I was 40 years old and I had a clear vision of what life would be like and then... Here I am on February 25, 2016...hours away from being 38 years old. Thirty.eight.years.old?!?! and nothing has gone according to those hopeful, beautifully innocent plans.
Looking for Bootstraps
At some point in mid-February, I realized I had a choice. I could allow myself to be pulled under by the swirling currents of self doubt and melancholy or I could pull myself up by those damned proverbial bootstraps and reclaim optimism and hope for this next year of my life. But how? I don't even know what a bootstrap even is! How could I possibly pull on them if I wasn't even sure what it was I was grasping for?It was then that I began to think about what I wanted my life to really be about in the end. Did I want it to be defined by this dark chapter? Did I really want people to remember me as this pathetic figure of pity? No. N-O. I am so much more than that, dammit. At a recent couples counseling session, I had expressed fears that the optimism and hope that I had clung to and nurtured my entire life had allowed me to be, well, stupid. The therapist said something that really got me thinking. I won't be able to quote him perfectly, but it was something like, "I don't really know your history, but I get the sense that things weren't always that easy for you and I would guess that it was your optimism that got you through those times." I hate when therapists are right. Optimism and hope are my bootstraps.
For my birthday, I want to reclaim optimism. I want to rekindle hope. I want to prove to myself that for every hint of darkness that I encounter in life, there is just so much light. I want to refocus my attention on the beauty that exists in this world. I want a reminder that our humanity allows us to do terrible, hurtful things to one another, but it also allows us to do amazingly kind, generous, selfless things too.
A Birthday Invitation to You
Hopefully Yours,
Sara Renee
P.S. If you want to see all the cool things my friends and family will hopefully do tomorrow, follow the fun on this facebook event page or use the #kindness4sara. Thanks in advance for this gift...it will be more precious to me than anything that could be fit in a box. <3
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