Happy birthday, Natasha

It took me 4 months to press Send on this post. This year my real birthday was in July.

On my 52nd birthday, I felt the same as on my 42nd... but much much wiser.
Sadness quotient same;
happiness equally high.
Imagine the difference between being the mother of a 10-year-old and
then a 20-year-old. There is no difference.

I went to sleep on the night before my birthday with unfinished work.
I woke up and gave up on trying to finish it by deadline.
I asked for help. I surrendered.

On my 52nd birthday, I learnt to fail
and not be overwhelmed by shame.

I know something about boundaries that I didn't know earlier.
I am hugely popular;
and that is a lot of work for the people-pleaser in me.

On my next birthday, I will learn to bask in my glory.
This year I am enjoying the work.
Specially the care work. Most of the time.

At this time I have everything I ever wanted in life. 
The challenge is to get all these everythings to get along with each other;
make space, be generous and squabble less.
Specially my two dogs who like to touch their wet noses to my husband who is very particular about what he will allow to touch him where.

He dislikes sudden sensory surprises and does not like feeling vulnerable.
Softness moves him too much.

On my 52nd birthday, I was very busy.
I had scheduled things I love and did not have time to go to the wholesale flower market with my beloved.
We went on a drive in the evening to look for jamun and litchi on roadside thelas.
He took me to the dentist. We took mangoes for her as a gift.
We did other things too but there is no need to titillate you further.

The morning was difficult, the evening was breezy.
My daughters made cake and a birthday card.
I ate rice, chicken and mangoes with my hands
and did not comb my hair for the photos of the day.

I did not respond to all the birthday messages.
Sometimes nice things overwhelm me.
I need to stay with my quietness.

“Please be nice to me without being so demanding,”
I said to everyone without saying it to anyone.
I was amused by this line;
mothers and others know what I mean.

All I want is rest.
And a foot massage, every alternate day of the year.
On my 52nd birthday I blow kisses to all of you.
May you be a fuller version of yourself.

Grow stranger and more familiar in the mirror.
Talk to yourself,
sleep at the drop of a hat,
and write lopsided poems without provocation.
~ ~ ~

PS: This is what I was doing on the morning of my 52nd birthday in July this year. Facilitating the Ochre Sky Memoir Writing Workshop with

raju tai

Details of the next two workshops in 2024 are here: https://forms.gle/8nPWhnLTXfHxF5wi7