Yesterday the calendar rolled over into my 36th year of life, or as a mathematically conscious friend pointed out, my 13,149th day of being alive (it is accurate, she even accounted for leap years). Celebrating my own birthday has never been my jam. It took a toll for “let’s skip it” after I broke my collarbone, on my 9th birthday, due to a very large man roller skating backward who fell on top of me at the rink. In more recent years, the direct sales company I worked for always held their leadership conference in January and so I spent the day with teammates under going training. When I have been home on my birthday it becomes some sort of enigma. While I appreciate the sentiment, the stress that everyone seems to feel and put on themselves about making the day special ends up making it one full of arguments, harsh words, lack of teamwork and often tears. Circle back to my nine-year old self, laying in the middle of the cold wooden floor, watching the ceiling fans spin, biting my lip in pain while I waited to be taken to the hospital, the birth of my “skip it,” mentality.
Let me be clear, I don’t hate birthdays. In the past I have done lots of incredibly Pintrest worthy themed parties for my kids and loved every minute of the planning. The staying up half the night to execure said plans and the last-minute hunts for the perfect (insert whatever), maybe not so much. It was my way of showing my love for the day these little people came into the world, my world, and rocked it so hard. It was my pleasure to create a theme that made them shine, a magical day you hope they will always remember. Love and light.
This year I took my birthday in stride. Zero expectations. Just a mission. To enter into my 36th year a little lighter. To be gentler, with myself and others. To be less worried about being right and more concerned with being kind. To pause. To pray more. Mediate regularly. To focus on all the amazing things about the people in my life and quiet the inner dialog about what I wish was different. To forgive. Truly forgive, without the subtle tug of resentment. To remember that I can not change people or circumstances, only the way I react to them. And to do good, whenever possible.
Being mindful of these changes would in turn help me evolve as a woman, wife, mother, teacher, daughter, friend, and allow me to reconnect with the confident silhouette that once stood where a giant hole of uncertainty has been growing.
Yesterday, in the midst of reading all the birthday messages on my FB wall, I had a breakdown. I was shocked at the love in some of the posts. The encouragement I felt from reading words others used to describe me was nothing sort of the miracle I needed. I want to continue to be the light, the literal sunshine, as many of my friends suggested. I have never been more humbled and more open than I am this chilly January night.
So, in addition to sharing through this blog and the MamaCsordas Facebook group, I have been inspirted to strive for a challenge. I am excited to share with you the “36 Glitterbombs of Hope” in 2018 challenge. The goal is to spread kindness like confetti and hope like glitter caught in the sun. An explosion of good vibes and happy acts.
My personal mission is to intentionally make a difference in 36 ways, not so much with a goal to share every story but as a way to hold myself accountable. As a challeneg to open my eyes to all the incredible situations the universe offers up daily where we have free will to act. To make a choice. To be mindful that a small pause and clear head could lead to better decision, a moment of change. Offering empowerment or uplifting encouragement as a gift we have the power to give if we notice it is available.
A “Glitterbomb of Hope” can be so many differnet things to so many people. I invite you to join me by sharing the good you are throwing into the world. Check out the FB group/Instagram to see where your kinds words let me to spread hope yesterday! #36glitterbombsofhope
Be the love and light, my friends.