My 42nd birthday was on Saturday. This year I was grateful for a regular ol’ birthday - no change of decade, no entering “mid” or “late” anything, no biopsy results looming or treatment plans to organize. Just a new year of my life beginning, the page optimistically blank. I drank coffee in bed (a miracle) while reading an inspiring book (a miracle), I opened loving notes from my family and friends (thank you) and went on a hike through the still-green vineyards near our home. Early September, like this birthday girl, has one foot firmly planted in summer and the other begging to run toward autumn.
As I blew out the single candle on my birthday cake, the girls exclaimed, “Make a wish!” in unison. But in that moment, my mind went blank. What should I wish for? Since I became a mother, the urgency of my desires has changed. It’s not that I’ve stopped wanting things, it’s just that my wanting moves around a lot to accommodate others. It often feels out of reach or at the bottom of the list and I’m to blame, I’m the one who let it go. Just like I offer them the first bite of every sandwich before I raise it to my lips, I offer my children all my wishes too. I think it’s part of the biology of motherhood - I’ll never stop wanting for them, wishing for them, praying for them. Needless to say, this has made my own desires for myself often indecipherable.
My little birthday candle was running out of wick and I still couldn’t come up with a wish for me.
Later that afternoon, as proof that the universe generously guides us, I followed a breadcrumb trail that led me back to Elizabeth Gilbert (author of Eat Pray Love, Big Magic). Liz had just started a new writing project on her Substack channel called “Letters from Love” and it piqued my curiosity. In her first post, she explains that she has kept a particular writing practice for over 20 years, beginning when she was drafting Eat Pray Love. This is how it goes: Every morning, she writes a letter to herself from Love (her Higher Self, God, True Source, however you want to call it). And in that letter, she tells herself kind and loving things. She addresses herself in terms of endearment and spends the next fifteen minutes writing in pure love and admiration, in an old notebook that she uses just for this purpose. Her daily letter sets the tone for her entire day and her Substack project offers prompts and letters from her writer friends to encourage this practice in others.
After I wrote last week’s piece, “Mirrors,” I’ve been thinking a lot about what self love really looks like in action. I was inspired by Liz’s idea that Love could reach me through my pen, not just through a smile in the mirror. So I sat down to write my first letter from Love and instead of a few paragraphs, 42 birthday wishes appeared on the page. They’re the first 42 things that came to my mind and I left them mostly unedited for you to read below.
And here’s the beautiful thing about my list: Every single one of these wishes was within my reach. In just reading the list, I found myself in a new kind of gratitude loop of asking and receiving: What I want is what I have.
Maybe you have a birthday on the horizon? I encourage you to start writing your own list - the longer, the better. There are no rules. Feel free to borrow my wishes and make them your own. But also, you don’t need to wait for a birthday. I’m sure there’s a ladybug nearby, or a lucky penny to be found on the sidewalk. Pluck the last dandelion from the parking lot and listen.
It’s all ours for the taking.
To me, on my 42nd birthday —
1. I wish you hunger and 2. Arriving to hot bread in the oven 3. Then, I wish you a different hunger 4. A glowing coal in the heart 5. A hunger for words to describe this life 6. Words to reach everyone you love 7. And everyone they love 8. Maybe you reach the whole world 9. Before anything, I wish you milky coffee and Mary Oliver poems at sunrise 10. Slower days and deeper breaths 11. A dozen rounds of Barbie Uno 12. Daily glimpses of Love: 13. The full moon out the bedroom window, just above the cedar tree (Or, if you forgot to look out the window because you were tired - ) 14. A photo text from a dear friend, arriving in the night, the blue moon outside her window in Wisconsin (what a comfort - it's the same moon) 15. I wish you confidence in your strong body 16. I wish your glove box full of gummy cherries, the top down on the car despite the wind, 17. Your hair a tangled mess but warmed from the autumn sun 18. I wish you Counting Crows songs and feeling 18 again but also - 19. To feel this age - 42 - as young as you'll ever be again. 20. I wish you all of your selves catching up to you. 21. I wish you buttered popcorn and quilts and You've Got Mail 22. Cats purring on your thighs 23. The bath running upstairs 24. Forgiveness in all directions 25. Taper candles in the window as evening darkens the room 26. Pink roses on the desk and perfume on your wrists 27. Bedsheets dried in the garden, the smell of ozone on the pillowcase 28. The perfect red lipstick that lasts all day and I mean all day 29. The first fire in the wood stove, smoke lingering on your sweater 30. Living as Feist sings: Feel It All. 31. Trusting that all your intuitions are true 32. Being seen for all of your invisible work 33. Being known for all of your hidden desires 34. Being loved for the girl you were and the woman you are still becoming 35. I wish you your best friend's laughter in your ears 36. And the joke still on your tongue 37. A photo taken that makes you feel beautiful. 38. I wish you a lightness in speaking, 39. A lightness in being 40. Golden light, illuminating another trip around the sun and 41. Your return to yourself 42. As another blessed year begins
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARAH! I’ve also stopped wishing for things on my bday. This is a great nudge and primer for next month. I’ll be ready!
Beautifully written as always Sarah, keep believing. I love this for you. Its meant to be. You are amazing at expressing yourself in writing. XxxTay