I celebrated a birthday last week, and I’m sorry to say that I didn’t approach it with the best attitude. If the 35th anniversary of my birth had been a doorway, then I probably would have sidestepped through it, all the while looking longingly over my shoulder at the wonderful world I was leaving behind on the other side. 

But I came to my senses just in time — thanks to a few encounters in the days leading up to the big celebration. I learned that each birthday is like a park bench along the path of life, providing a nice quiet space to sit, gaze out upon our past, present, and imagined future, and soak in the beauty of those people and places that give meaning to our lives.

A friend of mine turned 96 years old just two days before my own birthday. Although I didn’t actually see Gracie on her big day, I have a feeling that she probably wore her favorite matching red beret and scarf. Gracie doesn’t sidestep through birthdays. She may do her fair share of reminiscing, but I don’t think that she ever wishes to be in any place or time other than where she is. Instead of trepidation, she approached her 96th birthday with a sense of gratitude and lightheartedness. 

The day before I blew out the candles, I conducted a life-story interview of a 75-year-old woman with four grown children and a number of grandchildren. When I asked her to recall the best day of her life so far, she took me back less than five years. She had led a rich, joy-filled life, but her best years are right now.

The morning of my birthday rolled around, and I was talking with my mother-in-law about a recent dinner party that she and my father-in-law had attended with some of their closest friends. Apparently, the dinner conversation digressed to roaring laughter about the number gravity was doing on their faces and bodies. They joked that within a few years, they’d have to rely on voice recognition to identify each other due to their drooping eyelids. But they all agreed that it was a really good thing that they were all going through the sometimes cruel process of aging — together.

That same night, I celebrated my birthday at an elegant restaurant in upstate New York with my husband of 11 years, my best friend of 15 years, and her husband, who feels more like a brother-in-law than anything else.

When we threw all caution to the wind and ordered two bottles of wine, I suddenly realized that we were not only celebrating my life — we were toasting our separate, yet shared journeys.  How could we possibly mourn the times left behind when we were traveling with such great company? 

My mom called as we were just finishing dinner. She greeted me with, “Parent Patrol. It’s 10 p.m. Do you know where your children are?” I did. Mine were safe at home in their warm beds, while my mom’s oldest daughter was sitting in a candlelit restaurant feeling the warmth of friendship and love embracing her. 

As my cell phone snapped closed, I was filled with a deep sense of gratitude for the people in my life. My friends. My family. And those who may just be passing through but leave golden nuggets of wisdom in their trail.

May we all learn to be a little less cynical when it comes to our birthdays — and a lot more joyful. There is much to celebrate.

“Strive to crowd out of your life unworthy thoughts, unworthy acts, unworthy contacts. Just see what happens if, for a solid week, you fill your life only with the best! — the very best in literature, the very best in art, the very best in nature.”

William H. Danforth, 1931

I have a close friend, Melissa, who is a master of bringing beauty into her life. She turns everyday activities into ceremonious occasions.

I’ve learned a lot from her about filling my life with quality moments and experiences. So I thought I’d pass along a few of her tricks:

Light a Candle

Melissa is a little obsessive about candles. We used to share an apartment years ago, and I remember always feeling nervous that she was going to eventually burn down the place.

These mini-torches hung from the walls, were perched precariously on windowsills, and adorned every flat space (coffee tables, end-tables, vanities) in our little abode. Candles were lit for dinner, for after-dinner tea, for quiet nighttime conversation ….

As much as I might have fretted about their safety, they truly turned an ordinary moment into something quite extraordinary.

One night, we watched together as a neighboring apartment building burned to the ground as a result of a forgotten candle. I thought that this experience might have toned down her own candle-burning habit.

But even today, when I visit her and her growing little family, our moments together are bathed in candlelight. Her three young children have probably never eaten a meal under artificial light.

Put on a Pot of Tea

Being from the south, I grew up with a pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge. But I had never experienced a cup of hot tea until I met Melissa. Since then, I’ve found that most New Englanders drink their fair share of tea, but Melissa’s family drinks more than most.

They put a pot of water on to boil the moment a guest enters the house. In fact, you would never seriously try to have a conversation in their house without a nice cup of hot tea to cradle in your hands.

Plan Your Meals

I’ve spent a lot of time with Melissa and her family over the years, and I can’t remember a time when she has ever said, “Let’s just throw in a frozen pizza.”

She’s an artist. And maybe that explains why she always takes the time to visualize the way a meal will unfold before it happens. It very well may be simple — fresh bread, cheese, dilly beans, and a salad — but it’s never an afterthought.

She says, “What shall we have for dinner?” with a spark in her eye — and you know that no matter what might follow, it’s going to be some kind of culinary occasion.

Slow Down, and Be in the Moment

Although I come from a family where “rushing to the next thing” is part of our genetic code, I have never felt the need to hurry when I’m with Melissa.

She just doesn’t rush. Moments linger. Pots of coffee continue to refill themselves. We may stay in our pajamas until mid-morning. And it just doesn’t matter.

She is a master of being in the present – completely devoted to what we’re experiencing right now … A cup of hot coffee and a meaningful conversation. Why would we need to exchange this moment for a different one?

Choose Your Day

I love spending a full day with Melissa because they are always so well balanced and full. Over breakfast, she’ll say, “So what should we do today?”

And even if there are things that just have to be done — like work, errands, or house chores — she somehow finds time to weave something really great into the day. Maybe we’ll walk into town for breakfast, or we might make a picnic dinner to enjoy by the water. Or sometimes, the entire day will become a series of fun, meaningful experiences.

And it’s all because she loves embracing the possibilities that each day offers — as it begins.

There is an old Hindu Legend, says Claude Bragdon, that at one time all men on earth were gods, but that men so sinned and abused the Divine that Brahma, the god of all gods, decided that the godhead should be taken away from man and hidden some place where he would never again find it to abuse it.

“We will bury it deep in the earth,” said the other gods.

“No,” said Brahma, “because man will dig down in the earth and find it.”

“Then we will sink it in the deepest ocean,” they said.

“No,” said Brahma, “because man will learn to dive and find it there too.”

“We will hide it on the highest mountain,” they said.

“No,” said Brahma, “because man will some day climb every mountain on the earth and again capture the godhead.”

“Then we do not know where to hide it where he cannot find it,” said the lesser gods.

“I will tell you,” said Brahma, “hide it down in man himself. He will never think to look there.”

And that is what they did. Hidden down in every man is some of the divine. Ever since then he has gone over the earth digging, diving, and climbing, looking for that godlike quality which all the time is hidden down within himself.

It is this spark that I am daring you to turn into a blaze. – “It is this radiance we must recapture.” It is something genuine, something for everyday use. It is the spirit that naturally makes you do the right thing at the right time.

The passage above is an excerpt from William H. Danforth’s book, I Dare You.

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In today’s over-scheduled world, there is little time and few places where we are free to sit still and connect with our spiritual center. That inner voice – perhaps the voice of God – cannot be heard amidst the noise of everyday life.  

As a society, I think that we feel the void. Some say that our obsession with material things is an attempt to fill the spiritual chasm in our world today. Addiction, depression, anxiety – so many of the mental and emotional ailments that we suffer from could be attributed to this disconnect between the body and the spirit.

I often think how much more difficult it must be for us to be faithful than it was for the generations that came before. In a historically Christianity-based society, bedtime prayers, mealtime blessings, and Sunday church services all provided time for our great-grandparents to reflect and explore their faiths. 

Of course, there were skeptics among those who participated in any one of these rituals. Rarely has a person agreed 100% with any particular take on religion. But the point is … spirituality was so much a part of the culture that “the spaces and places” existed – regardless of what you wanted to make of it on a personal level. 

Today, those spaces and places are harder to find. And if they are there, we are not in the habit of seeking them out.

But maybe, as Danforth says, getting back on the road to spiritual exploration begins by simply looking for a hint of the divine within …

Got a light, anyone?

I’ve always made exercise a priority. That’s never really been a problem for me, which is probably because everyone’s telling me that I should do it. I’ve yet to find a health-related magazine on the shelves that doesn’t praise the benefits of sweating-it-out a few times a week. But creating time and space for my spiritual life has not always come so effortlessly. 

I think that many of us today suffer from a dry well when it comes to our souls. We’re just not in the habit of consciously keeping an eye on the water level. Now that I’ve started to become more in-tune with this part of my life, I can sense when I need some spiritual recharging.

Just recently, I began bringing my family to a nondenominational church in town. It feels really good to me. I enjoy just sitting in that quiet, contemplative place every Sunday morning, listening to the music, and waiting for the minister to say something that really hits home for me. He almost always does. And I leave there feeling more connected to God, the community of churchgoers around me, and to the natural world outside those church doors. It’s just a good space for me. I look forward to going — and I think that my kids get a lot out of it too. If nothing else, it’s something that we do together as a family. While so much of the week pulls us apart from one another, church brings us together. 

During other times in my life, church wasn’t necessarily the answer to that spiritual calling. My soul has been touched on a long cross-country ski tour through the mountains or even while soaking in a warm bath with some inspirational reading. I have friends who meditate and who practice yoga. Personally, I find some deep satisfaction in being a part of a community of others who are on a similar spiritual quest. But every person is different. And I do believe that your spiritual life is deeply personal.

But I have challenged myself – and I would challenge anyone – to try and find an hour out of every day (and certainly every week) to be still and feel connected to the world that exists beyond our five senses. I think it’s certainly a worthwhile investment of time.