A few days ago I turned 39.
Each year, when it’s my birthday I develop a princess complex. I feel like the world should stop and put on a parade because it’s the day that I was born… Now doesn’t that sound egotistical. Gosh, putting it down on the page I realize how far I have to go in my yoga quest for enlightenment. If its to be found on top of Everest, I’m still wading through the swamps of Bangladesh. Hrmph.
So anyway, despite the world not flash mobbing me and turning my day into a musical, set in Brazil during Carnival, I did have a lovely morning.
My two gorgeous sons made me cards and gave me presents and cuddles. And my man spoilt me too. My parents and sisters called me to wish me a happy birthday and lots of friends txted or fb’d me their wishes. OK, so really the day was getting off to a wonderful start.
We spent the morning playing in the ocean, soaking up some vitamin D, ate nachos for lunch and then went to the flicks…
Still no parade in sight but I was hanging with my boys and had spent the morning in the sun. I thought I was going ok… Then we bought the wrong tickets, had to go back and get new ones, pay more, run late… It was no big deal of itself but it was a straw and the camel’s back was broke.
All the emotion that I hadn’t realised was there came pouring out. We were seated, waiting for the movie to start (in the dark thankfully) and I started sobbing. My man asked me what was wrong. I had to think about it. There were so many layers. I was having a birthday freak out. I had this overwhelming feeling of being extremely; well… mediocre. I started thinking about my past, all the fuck ups, regrets, things I’d wished I’d done; worry about the present; children to support; a business to promote; a relationship to navigate, and a future to aspire to.
It all came crashing down on me like a ton of Bangladeshi delta water. I was spiraling down, down, down into the murky depths and darkness. I sat there for the next few minutes letting the tears come, sobbing, my man holding my hand and giving it comforting squeezes. And thankfully my boys were oblivious, eyes on the movie.
It lasted about 10 minutes, and then finally I broke free of the swirling eddie and started swimming for the surface. At first it still looked murky and turbulent. My heart was beating fast and my emotions were still chaos. I took some deep breaths and slowly, I began to relax.
The movie (Paper Planes) was cute, bit of a tearjerker actually; and funny; and heartwarming. Exactly what I needed.
The pressure had been released and I floated through the rest of the day like a leaf on top of that delta.
After the movie we swam in the ocean again and then sat in the park chatting and playing with the kids. I found a big fluffy feather; a plume and stuck it in my hat. And also a big diamond. One of my sons bit down on it to give it the authenticity test. It made a kind of squeaking sound, so there is a slight chance it could have been plastic.
…Feathers and diamantes… Looking a lot like mardi gras around here! I like to think the world did put on a party for me; in another dimension. And these two small tokens made their way to me.
And, that whole existential freak-out from earlier in the day? Well… Frank said it best:
Regrets, I’ve had a few:
But then again, too few to mention.
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way!