I’m Getting Older, And I Love That!

I’m an April baby. And I’ve always thought spring is a great time for a birthday. Who wouldn’t want to come bursting into the world accompanied by birds chirping and flowers blooming?

I think of spring as a time of renewed energy, purpose, and possibility. It’s a time to get moving again after the impatient, closed-in feeling I get as winter winds down.

That’s why, two years ago for my 50th birthday, I planned a getaway to a bed and breakfast, imagining three days spent outdoors with sunshine and blue skies, maybe riding a bike or hiking through muddy trails.

None of that happened. Within hours of arriving at my destination, I was sick. I spent the next three days weak and feverish, barely able to get out of bed.

Lying there, helpless as a newborn, I realized that I was smack in the middle of one of my greatest fears: being alone with no one to take care of me.

I started remembering other times when I hadn’t felt the greatest around my birthday. It dawned on me that, in addition to being all the wonderful things I mentioned, spring is also a time of year I tend to get sick.

I love spring. And spring sucks. Hmm. It seems both are true. How is that possible?

One answer came from an event I went to this month. My friend invited me to see Kyle Cease, a former stand-up comedian turned transformational speaker and author of a book called I Hope I Screw This Up: How Falling In Love With Your Fears Can Change The World. He talks about the importance of sitting with ideas that make us uncomfortable; how learning to just be with something instead of in resistance to it is the only way to grow.

In fact, he goes a step further. He says that, to every negative thought, we should add the phrase “and I love that!”

I get sick every spring,…and I love that!

I’m another year older and don’t have what I thought I would….and I love that!

It sounds crazy, but it’s oddly powerful.

Because it’s true—only when I stop fighting with reality and accept whatever is showing up can I make space for something new.

I’m practicing it this week and finding that, when I tell myself that I love getting older, and I love fighting off the yearly flu, I really do feel a tiny sprout of energy pushing toward the light. I connect with a part of me that automatically works to find evidence of whatever declarations I make. Something in me causes my mind will unfurl with things I do love.

Like wisdom.
And experience.
And having a reason to stay in bed all day and do nothing.

And that yes, I am the only one who can take care of me. But that I can trust myself to do a great job.

And I love that.