This could become a “thing”!

So today is my birthday and, unlike most years, I’m embracing it in ways that I normally wouldn’t. I’m not one to put a lot of significance into acknowledging or celebrating it. It’s not a day that has usually had much recognition, by myself more so than anyone else. I don’t mean it in a way of saying that I feel like it’s been ignored or that it’s been a negative thing, it’s just the way that I’m wired for it. Some people make a huge deal out of their birthdays, and that’s all good, I’m just not one of them. I had actually kept my birth date off of social media for years because I don;t like a lot of attention being paid to it, usually.

Last year was a bit out of the norm for me. My partner did make a deal of. She treated me to a surprise night out at an amazing show and a wonderful home-cooked dinner. Being made to feel special was a new experience for me. The way she did it was the best and I loved it’s simplicity and it’s personal nature. It felt good to feel good and to celebrate something that is so intrinsically personal and all about me. Not an easy thing for me to understand.

This year, from the moment go this morning, it’s been a new experience. I’m not “doing” anything for my birthday but I am “being” different today and how that is feeling to me has taken me by surprise. It began though, before today even. Last night I took the time to pick up a couple of things while I was grocery shopping. Items that would help make an already planned and looked-forward-to dinner even better. Items that will compliment the scrumptious pasta sauce that my sweetie sent me home with from the weekend.

I took the time to think of how to make my planned experience even better.

I took the time to think of myself and how could I could make myself happier.

I put my attention on myself.

That’s a big thing. That’s not something that is my usually way of being and thinking. Felt good though.

I woke up this morning and made myself coffee and took my time getting ready. I actually dawdled and sat and scrolled through social media and smiled as I saw messages and wishes for a happy day.

I made a conscious and very intentional decision to pick out something to wear that I loved and that made me feel good today. Why? For the unheard of reason that I decided that I wanted to feel amazing today and that I deserved that.

What a concept! One that, as simple and easy and obvious as it sounds, isn’t one that I operate with as part of my life usually. It’s not anything as dysfunctional as “I hate myself” (most of the time) but it’s just that I don;t register on my own radar for doing something, anything, for myself beyond necessity and basics.

Being, what I would consider self indulgent, or even just being attentive to what will put a smile on my face or make me feel good inside or out doesn’t exist for me really.

But you know what? I have spent the day (so far! It’s not over yet!) paying attention to myself and putting myself and feeling good foremost in my mind – even while working a full day and getting things done!

I’ve taken the time to indulge in thinking about  myself and in recognizing that my feeling good is important and worth spending time and energy on. This may have to become a daily thing, it feels so good. This could become a thing!

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Miscommunication by Generation Gap

*her (client, early twenties)* “excuse me, do you have the wifi password for here?”

*me (working, nearing mid forties)* “Of course, it’s (I pause, giving her time to get ready to type as she is holding her device in her hand, at the ready) Spine, with a capital S, pound sign, zero, zero, seven.”

*her* (typing, she stops and looks at me) “is pound with a capital P too?”

*me* “Nope, I mean the pound sign, not the word pound. You know, the “number” sign it’s called too. It’s Spine, with a capital S, pound sign, then zero, zero, seven.” (I smile)

*her* blinks and stares at me, silent.

*me* stares back, smiling, silent

*her* stares back and smiles

*me*Would you like me to write it down?”

*her* “That would be great” she beams.

*me* writes down “Spine#007” and hands her the piece of paper.

*her* “Oh, you mean a hashtag! That symbol is a hashtag, not whatever you called it – a pound? It’s a hashtag. It came out a couple of years ago.” She smiles.

she hands me back the piece of paper as she starts typing and turns to sit down.

*me* “Yeah, thanks” I smile back.

#itusedtobecalledsomethingelsereallyitdid