It’s my birthday and I’m off for the day to celebrate myself. While leisurely laying in bed for the morning, contemplating a long steamy shower, a rambling lunch while catching up on a favorite magazine; amidst the possibilities of later, browsing aimlessly for a trinket or a small luxury for myself… I realized (as I do every year) that this is the one day per year, not only the one GUARANTEED day, but the only and very lonely one day out of 364 coming days and 364 days left behind, that we are permitted to celebrate Self.
I know people who say, “birthday, smirthday… it’s just another day”.
The hell it is!
It is the day I was born and therefore, it is a day made FOR me.
Even on the cusp of 50, I enjoy my day o’ birth. It no longer garners the same level of attention from family members that it once did, with cakes and balloons and calls and visits (and presents); but Steve Wonder and the Beatles thought it was worth an entire song, and there are cultural phrases we bandy about, such as “your birthday suit”.
So, I think this is the day I have permission to be selfish. Self-centered, self-absorbed, self-promoting and self-rewarding.
Well, I’m on it!
Literally, however, it’s 10:30 on my birthday and I’m firing off a quick blog about birthdays, but right after this, I’ll get started on being ‘all things self’. But that thought makes me wonder how I can get ‘all things self’ into more of those 364 coming days or 364 days left behind. Cause when I get to choose the meal, the cake, the activities for an entire day; when I get presents or cards or emails or 66 Facebook friends telling me to have a great day…I want that to happen more often.