Birthday Epiphanies

Epiphany: a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.*

 

It doesn’t seem quite possible that a year ago I was writing a blog post about being a year away from thirty, and now here I am—one day into a new decade. It’s funny that, as young as I was, on some birthdays past I’ve been a little down, feeling like my life wasn’t going anywhere, plagued by regrets, and worried that I wasn’t accomplishing enough.  I’ve told myself I never want to be one of those people who gets depressed about getting older, or who is embarrassed to admit their real age. After all, to be given another year of life is something to celebrate! So, it was never really the fact that I was getting older that got me down so much as birthdays were a reminder that time was passing by and I felt a sense of failure at what I had to show for the years lived.

So, at thirty of all birthdays to date, you would think I would have been haunted by similar feelings, but you know what? I felt inexplicably happy.  I am well aware that feelings of happiness are often short-lived, but instead of feeling guilty about it, instead of telling myself that it wouldn’t last, I chose to bask in it. And I realized that I’m so often chiding myself for what I have not accomplished, or feeling sad about some thing I perceive I lack, that I give little room in my life to really sink into the depths of joy that are beckoning to me. 

As I reveled in the joy I was experiencing I wrote this in my journal:

I will not be defined by what I lack(or perceive I lack)—for this is truth—“The Lord is my Shepherd; I lack nothing.”

Today, I do not feel regret over the past or worry about the future. 

Today, even if only for this moment, I am wondrously—miraculously, even—swept up in the Joy that is God.

Why should He be so kind?

Why should I be so loaded down with gifts?

I will not puzzle long over the mystery,

But I will receive it,

Hands cupped —though too small to hold all this grace—

My face upturned in thanks.

And I had another epiphany, even though I’ve "known" this all along: It really is my choice. I really can choose whether to be weighed down by what I’m not, or to celebrate what I am. Whether to pine after what I lack, or embrace with joy all that I have. I won’t pretend that I’ll never need to learn this lesson again, that I’ll never need reminders, but I sense a new way of being coming on. I see possibility. I feel my heels sinking into the present. And an odd thing happens as I cozy up in the reality of life as it is—I actually feel more ready to dip my toes into new waters. 

Contentment is a strange paradox, tethering me to joy in now, while making me braver and more ready for tomorrow.

*dictionary.com