Another birthday is in the books and, as usual, it had its ups and downs. This year came with a theme, though, a magical message that stayed with me on the days surrounding and including my birthday:
Less effort, more surrender.
This divine guidance was inspired by a post from Sarah Seidelmann the week before. However, the message took on a life and meaning of its own.
As is my tradition habit, the day before my birthday I set about making myself a celebratory treat. This year’s indulgence was a lemon-ricotta cake. I had been saving the recipe for this special occasion and was so looking forward to the cake’s light, lemony goodness.
The cake was a failure.
In that failure, though, was an aha moment.
What I realized is that so many of my birthdays the past 15+ years have been about doing for others under the guise of doing for me. This year, in making that cake, I became aware that the “other” I was doing it for was actually an old version of me.
The me who enjoyed organizing my own birthdays. The me who used to be a professional baker. The me who liked spending hours or days making everything just so.
That may have been true years ago. Once upon a time, I did want to celebrate my birthday by making with my mom’s spaghetti with meat sauce and my dad’s peach buttermilk ice cream.
Over time, though, it became about me controlling how my birthday unfolded, which turned into operating on autopilot. “This is who I am and how I do my birthday.” (You probably have your own tired, old story.)
The penny dropped with last week’s cake calamity. I finally understood on a deeper level that I don’t have to make everything happen. I can just let things unfold on their own.
I know that sounds incredibly simple and obvious; and yet, it can be so hard to do. Unwinding old conditioning always is. There are layers of letting go.
And so I made a conscious effort to just do for me on my birthday, which included staying home and enjoying the gifts of nature that appeared, including half a dozen nighthawks that I’d never seen in the six years I’ve lived here. There was also some reading and napping (aka, dog snuggling).
When I allowed myself to let go of any expectations about what I should be doing, I was able to enjoy the day just as it was. I didn’t even care about not having a special sweet something to celebrate my birthday. The day was sweet in its own way. When I picked up my husband at work so we could head onto dinner, however, I found him standing in the parking lot with a small box of cupcakes in hand. It doesn’t get much sweeter than that!
My birthday was filled with many wonderful, unexpected gifts. But the greatest gift I received is understanding that when I surrender to what wants to be, rather than how I think things should be, that’s when the magic happens.
It takes a lot of effort to hold onto who you used to be. When you allow yourself to surrender, you create space for who you are.
If you find yourself working too hard to make something fit the image you have in your head of how things should be, ask yourself …
Where am I trying to hold onto an outdated version of myself?
What might I be creating space for if I surrender to who I am?
P.S. Not surprisingly, I pulled the Allow Peace card from my Allowing Prayers deck on the same day as the great cake failure. In my case, I was sacrificing my internal peace by maintaining the illusion of external appearances—the me I used to be.