Keeping Birthdays Happy

Birthdays.

They get you thinking don’t they? About age, life, if either is significant or to what degree if so. I love them- for this reason and many, many more. So much about birthdays revolve around attitude. Luckily, I don’t mind the thought of age. It’s of no relevance to me when I think of life’s happiness. It only comes in handy, as with age you get more opportunities at life’s goodies. Age doesn’t have to be depressing.

Look at it this way.

A birthday is special because it IS the day you as a being entered this physical world. Your soul came from wherever it existed prior and “poof!” emerged into this space. Ta da! Here you are! Working your way, moment by moment, day by day, year by year to what?

Your next birthday.

You could look at it as death, if you wanted to… if you wanted to be thoroughly depressing and devastating. Who the hell wants that? And who wants to be reminded of that inevitable flow called time taking you down the river of life toward something as dim as the thought called death? That is not what birthdays are for. I know this. In fact, death is just another birthday. Your soul is walking through a doorway, to be born in (…or perhaps returning to…) another “place” in which we may again celebrate the marker.

So, as we think about all of these deeper questions concerning age that yield no reversible answers, let's just opt instead to gather with friends, dream upon stars, and blow our wishes true. It’s a day to do what your soul most likely intended to do when choosing this day you are celebrating and that is RELISH IN LIFE. Do what you want to do. Wake up happy and go to sleep smiling. Time is not to be dissected. Time is only measured by man and we are indeed more than that.

On this birthday I make a wish for myself to keep an open mind and a radiating spirit that will guide me creatively through this life. I hope to see it each year as a way to be a pioneer and conquer new territory in the evolution that is Beth.

Surely I'm not the only one...

Does anybody else get sappy at odd things?

For instance, today there were two back to back accidents on 285 West Bound. The five lanes of traffic stopped for quite a while and like others, I just turned my engine off, which felt peculiar on a highway surrounded by other vehicles which typically cruise at 80 miles an hour. But, parked we were, patiently. Someone ahead was having a far worse day than all of us who were waiting for wreckage to be cleared. But, here's the part that made me weepy. As we in traffic slowly merged along in our cars, emergency vehicles were responding to the scene. I mean the works. Fire trucks came first, ambulances next, and then the cop cars came in numbers. This is all very positive. Helpers. Live in Anguilla, BWI for a year and you will become immensely proud of the punctual emergency response teams that we have here in the USA. As we all scooted right and stopped our cars so that we cleared a path for the emergency vehicles, my eyes welled up with tears. I sucked them back, so no fun can be made of me. But, watching the masses perform considerate acts makes me cry. Does anyone else suffer from this?

The same goes for funerals. When oncoming traffic pulls right and stops and turns their lights on in respect of the funeral procession I just lose it. I could have made it through the entire funeral without shedding a tear, but as soon as someone shows affection or consideration out of sheer unmotivated kindness, well, I can't contain the emotions. I remember in NYC when Nick's uncle died, I mentioned that this sympathetic expression from others is common when encountering a funeral procession and I got some bewildered looks from those living over seas. "Really?" they said. I'm assuming they were impressed. Because I am. Every time.

And if any human (human that is kindhearted that is) cries on television, I'm crying. Show me a stranded Polar Bear and I'm ready to live in a hut and eat bugs to save their ice caps. If a dog is hurt, or a race horse goes down, I don't get over that shit for years. I recently wanted two decorative mantle pieces, and because that meant I was leaving the third behind, lonely and feeling abandoned, I went back and got it too. I'm such a sucker. I rescued a dying bee yesterday and put it in a comfy place to confront its last moments, so that ants wouldn't ruin it for him. And both me and my husband rescue earthworms that will face a dry concrete fate if not directly put back to earth after a rain.

Any one else with me on this? Just wondering.

Sunday Funday

It is Sunday. A beautiful, delightful Sunday.

At this point in my weekend I sit happy. I have just now come in from my little garden that is blooming and fragrant and has made friends with several neighborhood butterflies and one fearless hummingbird. My payment for care-giving is the frequent swoops they make around me as I shower and admire the flowers. The rosemary is so fragrant and the basil makes my mouth water just thinking about it. It might be the most therapeutic task I know of- to garden.

A successful Sunday by Beth. Step one, wake up at dawn, which is impressive considering the good time I had last night. One of Nick’s friends celebrated his recent success on the PGA Tour by graciously having his friends over for a relaxed, but fine party at his home. The bartender was certainly a professional and the night turned out to be everything one would hope for amongst friends; funny stories, lots of laughter, a little history shared and a few new friends made along the way. Upon waking, I decided to bite the bullet and not roll around forcing a lazy morning onto myself and instead I got the dogs leashed and we hiked our usual trails in the Chattahoochee Forrest. We sat and watched the river flow for a while. Well, I sat and Selma put on her best performance to distract me from river gazing. She hops like a deer and sprints like a cheetah and spins in circles and digs a bit… snorts a little loose dirt and runs wild in large circles making paths through the trees as she goes. It’s really incredible! And it works. I laugh at all the contorted body movements and the intense and ever changing expressions on her face, complete with ear flaps flat behind her to give her an aerodynamic advantage, and eventually start cheering her. This is my morning glory.

Step two for the morning was to wake my husband up in the most abrupt fashion I could muster. So, I turned on 92.9, acoustic sunrise, and let it blare through the speakers and challenged the dogs to a race to the bed. Works every time! Nick was up! All three of his girls were on top of him smiling and energetic and Selma Lu Mela was a doll and included a complimentary face wash. Brilliant plan. I even worked out a short shoulder rub for myself. How about that! I splatter myself loudly on the bed and I get petted for it. Works for me! This is my morning pride.

Step three… brunch with my best friend. Husbands welcome. We had a brunch date for four at The St. Regis, Atlanta and my, my how wonderful it turned out to be. The décor in the hotel is phenomenal. And that is not my word to describe it. It is literally the word out of Nick’s mouth as he sat down. Fancy hotel, fancy words. We moved from our coffee and assorted muffins to pancakes and omelettes, which didn’t disappoint. Having wished for pancakes all morning, I was more than pleased when Chef Crystal suggested them. The chef is a friend now, made through Julie, my best girlfriend and a bit of a foodie. She knows good food. We concluded the breakfast with a nice gift, compliments of the chef, a spicy Bloody Mary, (which happened to include a tiny jalapeno pepper that Jules mistook for an olive and accidentally popped into her mouth whole!) The chef shared some knowledge. Bloody Marys are St. Regis’ signature beverage because the St. Regis, New York City was the first to ever concoct them back in 1930-something. What a valuable piece of trivia. Although, I never order them, I am impressed with this odd drink and admire the bravery in those who sip them as well as those who invent them. After touring the hotel and pool and refreshing myself with rosemary water, we parted from our friends and promised to make this our new preferred brunching location. It was really great food, hospitable service, and luxurious ambiance. I will suggest it. This is my morning delight.

Step four in my Sunday morning is home. Sending my Mr. to hit the course and dabbling on my stories, watering my lovelies and hugging my puppies. I guess nothing else is needed for me to be thankful on a Sunday. This is my morning contentment.

Earth, Love, Grace, and Happiness.

Every Sunday please.