Happy Birthday

     I may really regret this later today.  It is almost 2:00 am, and here I sit, staring at my computer screen.  Sleep is evading me at the moment.  This is partly owing to the fact that I am recovering from my dentist appointment earlier this evening, during which I had not one, not two, but four cavities filled.  For me the dentist is worse than childbirth.  The drugs aren't nearly as good either.  For the world's best dentist tirade, watch Bill Cosby as Himself.  There is no way I can ever top his description of the horrors of dental visits, so I won't even attempt it.  Suffice it to say, I am not sure my jaw will ever close fully again.  Another factor contributing to my insomnia is the allergy attack brought on by my parents' cat. Between my allergy swollen face and my fat lip from having a metal vice prying my mouth open for two hours, I look like a cross between Goldie Hawn and Lois Armstrong.  Perhaps not the best way to begin a birthday.......with a bad case of insomnia, a fat lip, a headache, and plugged sinuses. That's right.  It's my birthday.  Twenty eight years ago I came screaming into this wide world.  And here I sit, almost three decades later, wondering what my ten year old self would be telling me if I could have seen the future.  I probably would have told myself that I would be saving all of my over sized tied t-shirts and neon color blocked clothing, because 80's style would once again vomit itself all over the fashion scene.  I would probably ask myself why on earth I had stopped writing poetry or anything of real substance.  In fact, my ten year old self would probably slap my twenty eight year old self in the face for giving up on my passion.  I would probably tell myself I should really do something about those laugh lines and start wearing sunblock every day.  I would probably laugh at the red mini van parked in the garage, but stare with amazement at the three little miracles I taxi around in it every day.  I would congratulate myself for finding my Prince Charming.  I would be astounded that my twenty eight year old self is capable of cooking in something besides an Easy Bake Oven.  I would ask myself why I don't spend more quality time with my brother and sister.  They are my best friends after all.  I would be disappointed in myself for caring so much about what others think of me.  I would tell myself to stop worrying about the cellulite on my thighs and to get in more food fights with my kids.
     I think, all in all, my ten year old self would not be too disappointed with who she was to become in the future.  I am living the life I'd always dreamed of; a brick house with a white fence (even if it doesn't have pickets), a wonderful caring husband, three kids and a dog.  I am living the American dream.  So, why then am I sitting alone with my computer at two in the morning, feeling so unsettled and disquiet that I can't even sleep?  Maybe it's because as I have been reflecting on my youth, I have once again been reminded of how fleeting this life is.  My girlhood days in Virginia don't feel so distant.  Yet here I sit, one high school graduation, one wedding, three children and a mini van later, and I haven't accomplished half of what I was going to do.  Once real life set in, I began to tell myself that once it slowed down, I would begin pursuing my passions again. "Maybe next year, when Morgan is over her colic, I will practice the piano again", I would think........"Maybe in a few months after the basement is finished and Hyrum has recovered from his tonsil surgery".........."Maybe then I will try to really write something".........."Maybe after Ryan is potty trained I'll finally go on that cruise with Dirk."  I am content with my life.  I truly am.  I just think that maybe I am beginning to yearn for more than content.  I need an impetus.  I need to move forward.  I need to create and to discover deeper possibilities within myself.  I need to stop pleasing everyone else and get back to the heart of who I have always been.  I need to dig up old passions and resurrect dead dreams.  This is starting to sound like the lyrics to a very twangy country song.  Maybe what I really need to do is to become a lyricist for Tim Mcgraw.  I think what I am really trying to say is that I need to let go of fear.  I need to let go of the need to be accepted, understood and loved by everyone around me.  I need to spend more of my precious energy creating things which fulfill my soul and give my life richer meaning.  I need to spend more of my time enriching relationships with those people who care enough to remember my birthday and to call or send a card.  I am not trying to become more inwardly focused.  I will still strive to uplift those around me.  I will still send a birthday card to every one of my in-laws and their children even though there are exactly two of them who occasionally remember my birthday.
     I think of a birthday as a personal New Year's Day.  I am about to embark on a new year of my life.  In this next chapter of my life, I think I will resolve to be kinder to those around me; to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.  To be able to do this, however, I think I must first resolve to be kinder to myself; maybe to give myself the benefit of the doubt more often.  My ten year old self didn't feel threatened when those around her succeeded.  She didn't feel diminished when someone else accomplished something great.  She believed that the little spark within her was just waiting to ignite and to become something great.  She didn't care whether anyone else liked her poetry.  She only cared that writing it made her come alive.  She knew she would become a published writer someday because no one could stop her.  She would simply work at it until it happened.  I am beginning to think that my ten year old self was wise beyond her years.  I think perhaps all of our ten year old selves were wiser in some ways than we are now.  I am beginning to wonder if what we term "growing up", is really just resigning ourselves to a life that is far below our true potential.  I think maybe my ten year old self is still somewhere in there telling me, "Happy Birthday, Shannon.  It's time to really start living your life."  "And by the way, it's so cool that you can stay up until three in the morning now if you feel like it."