Remember when that thought sent chills of anticipation up and down your spine?  I still have the same chills, but they’re not chills of anticipation.

   
It’s not the age thing, I’m 54, and I’m fine with that.  I think the whole thing has just become old hat.  I’ve had 54 of these things, and could probably remember 49 of them if really pushed. 

  
When did that, “it’s my birthday!” excitement take a nose dive?  When my kids scattered to different states?  When my family started dropping like flies?  No, I think it was before that.  Is it just me, or do we hit a stage that decides having an entire 24 hour period just for ourselves is meaningless and trivial?  Is it that nothing is special anymore?  Have we become so wrapped up in our careers, family and friends that giving time to ourselves, to actually celebrate our existence, takes a backseat?  I’m afraid to say, “I think so.”

When was the last time you actually did something for yourself?  I’m not talking about that nonsensical “day of beauty” garbage.  Hairdo’s flop,  nails smear, and besides, that’s maintenance. When was the last time you flopped down and made an angel in the snow, or in my case, the sand?  Have you ever passed a pile of leaves that was just aching to be jumped in?  What did you do?  Did you worry about someone seeing you, or did you jump in, wholeheartedly.

I think that's the key...wholeheartedly.  Whatever you do, do it wholeheartedly. 

So go ahead, DO IT! 

  
Make yourself happy, happy on the inside.  Do something that's going to make you smile and feel completely satisfied with yourself, even if it's just for the moment.

What am I going to do?  I'm going to turn the stereo to my favorite oldies station, and dance.

"Okay, so it's my Birthday" by D. Gustafson, copyright Mama's Secrets, 2007.  All rights reserved.