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What I’ve learned (and unlearned) about celebration.

At the beginning of 2012, the word “celebrate” chose me. After the dark days of 2010 and 2011, I needed a lightness, a sense of play, to permeate my life again. I realized that my celebratory go-to’s were to have a drink or throw a party, but drinking no longer held the same appeal and while an occasional shindig is fun, I wasn’t up for throwing one regularly.

I launched a daily celebration practice on Facebook and asked myself the following questions, promising to return through the year and answer them:

What does “celebrate” mean to me? (i.e. what counts as a celebration?)

What and how do I want to celebrate?

What is mindful celebration?

What happens when the thought of celebration makes me want to hurl dishes at the wall?

No one has called me on the fact that I didn’t answer these questions, so I’m outing myself here. Even after a year of daily celebrations, I’m not sure I have a handle on all the answers. Here’s what I know right now.

Celebration is simple. It’s available to us in each moment. All we have to do is reach for it…

Hugs. High fives. Holding hands. Candles in cupcakes or ‘tater tots or eggs over medium. Happy dancing anywhere and everywhere. Joy that fills your chest, parts your lips in a grin and makes you want to explode like a Katy Perry video. A toast (water is acceptable though something bubbly is preferable). An internal “holy sh*t”. A quiet nod. A suppressed smile or a shopping spree. A mouth-watering meal. A square of dark chocolate. A party for two or two hundred. A massage, a pedicure, a haircut. Jumping up and down like a 5 year old on Christmas morning even though you’re 41. A whispered prayer standing at the edge of the ocean, arms outstretched, face to the sun.

Celebration is what we make it. It’s an acknowledgment of the moment’s importance. Celebration is saying yes to life in all it’s messy glory and pausing long enough to tattoo that yes on your soul.

This Monday is the 3rd anniversary of our son Benjamin’s stillbirth. Even as I feel the familiar ache in my chest, and contemplate hurling a dish or two at the wall, I am loving and celebrating this spectacularly messy, wonderful life.

This week I’m delighted to be over at Authentic Realities for Dian’s Summer of Authenticity series. I hope you’ll click over, and while you’re there, be sure to read some of the other wonderful guest posts.

In other news, I’m still digesting my experience at the World Domination Summit in Portland. It was crazy-good and I had some life altering moments. I’m cooking up some fun things for the fall – more on that soon!

From my heart to yours…
Alana

It’s late. The house is quiet after a day of semi-organized chaos. Eighteen of us together is like herding cats.

We’re visiting with my husband’s family. His big sister turned 50 this week. I remember meeting her over a decade ago and wondering if she was as nice as she seemed. She is.

I married into an amazing family. There’s so much love here, in spite of (or perhaps because of) the personality quirks.

I’m leaving Friday for Portland. Chris Guillebeau’s World Domination Summit is taking place this weekend. I believe the title puts all of us attending on the FBI watch list. It’s a big conference for those of us in the blogosphere, many of us entrepreneurs. A chance to connect live with people met first in the virtual world. I’ve wanted to go the last two years and now that it’s days away I’m excited and strangely detached.

I have no idea what to expect. I know there are people I’m eager to hug, people whose eyes I’m excited to look into, people I want spend time with. I imagine there are old stories that I’ll have to consciously move away from and old wounds that might ooze a little. There’s been massive healing in my life recently and I’m curious to see how it carries into a big event like this. I’ll be bringing my self-care practices, my willingness to trust that everything is perfect and my open heart.

If you’ll be there, I hope we’ll find each other. Please introduce yourself if you see me – I’d love to look you in the eye and give you a hug too.

Wherever you’ll be this weekend, I hope you continue to re-tell your stories so they’re a little less painful, love yourself when your wounds begin to ooze, and show up to life with an open heart.

As a kid, I remember summer stretching out ahead of me. Long days of playing outside, dancing in warm rain, riding bikes through the neighborhood, watching fireflies light up the evening air and playing badminton in my grandparents backyard. The September long weekend was impossibly far away as I read book after book, ate homemade popsicles and invented new games with my friends.

As the mother of a newly-graduated kindergartner, summer feels unfathomably short. She starts school again mid-August and I chafe against this unfortunate side effect of living in California. We’re tumbling toward a sixth birthday and first grade at lightning speed. I want to dig my heels in and slow the spinning down.

My to-do list is short this summer. It’s been tattooing itself on my heart these last weeks:  slow down and savor this time. I want to rest, read, write, laugh, play, dance, make space both internally and externally. I want to enjoy my child, my husband, my friends. I want to sink deeply into peace and the trust that there is no rush. It’s all perfect just as it is. Right now.

This is the pace I want to enjoy this summer:

What’s on your summer list?

P.S. I’m thrilled to be contributing an article to the first issue of Revive Magazine. An inspiring free resource for women (particularly women entrepreneurs), you can get your copy here. It launches today. Let me know what you think!