Sometimes, it’s glaringly evident that the Universe has a keen, even biting, sense of humor.
I was keenly aware of that this week as the quirkiest signs and synchronicities––all surrounding birthdays––repeated and amplified.
It all began when, due to more pressing commitments, I had to abandon my plan of condensing Vlad’s 2-hour birthday livestream into a 30-second highlight reel for social media.
(I’m hoping my Virtual Assistant enjoys that task, however.)
More importantly, with birthdays and the Power of Ritual (this month’s meditation theme HERE), very much on my mind, I kept recalling Hafiz’s poem So Many Gifts (which I’ll get to in just a minute.)
First, this is how my week began:
Being gifted (for reasons still unknown) with this exact Carvel Ice Cream Birthday Cake.
There’s a new supermarket on the ground floor of my apartment complex which, except for the occasional pangs of disloyalty I feel towards Trader Joe’s, is altogether great.
As the clerk bagged my groceries and I tapped my iPhone for Apple Pay, another employee suddenly presented me with a cake, one of a dozen he had in a grocery cart.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
I’m not sure if it was an English language challenge of whether he enjoyed being mysterious, but he didn’t really answer, merely mumbling something and encouraging me to take the free cake.
Accepting this offering was an easy decision.
The cake can sleep comfortably in my freezer until I either host a spontaneous birthday party or get really hungry at 4 am.
I’m happy to have an extra ice cream cake on hand––honestly, who wouldn’t be––particularly since they’ve left room after “Happy Birthday” for you to dedicate the cake to anyone you wish.
Ultimately, although it may be factory-made, you have the liberty to choose whom to celebrate.
Later that same day, during the ritual of Vlad and my afternoon walk, before our vintage store turning point, we always pass a favorite used bookstore.
My eye was instantly drawn to two books in the $1 remainder bin.
Both of them were personalized astrological birthday albums exactly as above, with the recipient’s names, times, and places of birth embedded on the front.
They were both given by someone named “Dina” who judging from the dedication seems both older and highly affectionate.
Who wouldn’t want to receive a book with dedication like this:
Most significantly, I find it bewildering not only that anyone would give away such lovely, expensive, and personalized gifts but also that they ended up together here.
Did the two recipients do an aggressive Spring Cleaning in tandem?
Was there some kind of dual falling out…or did Dina never get around to giving them?
It’s a strange mystery, indeed reminding me of that Hafiz poem I promised you.
Here are the first two stanzas:
There are so many gifts
Still unopened from your birthday,
there are so many hand-crafted presents
that have been sent to you by God.
The Beloved does not mind repeating,
“Everything I have is also yours.”
Please forgive Hafiz and the Friend
if we break into a sweet laughter
when your heart complains of being thirsty
when ages ago
every cell in your soul
capsized forever
into this infinite golden sea.
While delving into the Power of Ritual this month (again, March Meditation HERE), I’ve revisited the insights provided by James Clear’s Atomic Habits.
Over the last two weeks, I’ve shared how he recommends making habits Easy and Obvious, and this week I’m delighted to continue with his 3rd touchstone:
Make Desired Habits Attractive.
One way to achieve this is by establishing your own motivational ritual before attempting to adopt a challenging habit.
Do something that inspires you, in other words, to bite the bullet and get the harder thing done.
Over the years, I’ve suggested versions of that for countless creative coaching clients.
Whether it involves lighting a candle or playing music that fosters a sense of connection, the effectiveness of this kind of simple gesture is profound.
And for any curmudgeon who critiques the need for motivation and ritual, I always turn to Zig Zigler’s classic rebuttal:
“People often say that motivation doesn’t last.
Well, neither does bathing––
that’s why we recommend it daily.”
Hafiz’ poem ends with these lines:
There are so many gifts, my dear,
still unopened from your birthday.
O, there are so many hand-crafted presents
that have been sent to your life
from God.
To me, this encapsulates the quintessential human tendency to overlook our blessings, especially those that await us in the future.
Indeed, at this very moment, given the generosity of Vlad’s guests, our hall closet is quite literally full of a dozen or more unopened puppy gifts.
In general, philosophically I may not be inclined towards rationing pleasure, but nonetheless, I do feel that, when it comes to a small mountain of chew toys, some restraint is advisable.
Thus, I am joyfully withholding weeks, if not months, of unopened presents for Vlad’s future delight.
Speaking of which…
I love a phrase that James Clear uses for making habits attractive.
Namely, he suggests we practice “Temptation Bundling.”
He writes that “The strategy is to pair an action you want to do with an action you need to do.”
You promise yourself a reward, in other words, perhaps even bestowing it as you execute the dreaded task.
To borrow Clear’s example, you allow yourself a Netflix binge but only if and when you maintain a desired pace on the treadmill.
Practicing “Temptation Bundling,” you only allow yourself to open your gifts when you’re succeeding.
Just before I started writing this, I experienced one final jarring synchronicity concerning birthdays.
Forgive the lack of detail but as Beyoncé cautions us in Survivor, I’ll never be one to “diss you on the internet.”
The broad strokes are that, inspired by a workshop I recently attended, I was completing a forgiveness ritualregarding someone who had behaved quite badly, partly around birthday obligations and invitations.
Finishing my very much less-than-perfect Letting Go meditation––I give myself a 7 out of 10 on the Serenity Now Scale––I was stunned to see an online invitation from that person’s spouse, albeit one that was clearly a mistake.
The invitation was definitely not intended for me––I’ve never met the individuals being celebrated––and by the time I clicked on it, the online link was defunct.
I can’t help but marvel at the irony of how my partial forgiveness coincided with a partial invitation, the embodiment of a gift that isn’t yet fully prepared to be given or received.
If you know me at all you know I am startlingly good at internet research.
Within a moment, I’d tracked down the recipients (or perhaps merely intended recipients) of those Astrological Birthday Books.
(To be candid, given that their full names and place and time of birth were embossed on the covers, frankly it wasn’t that much of a challenge for my cyber detective skills.)
Anyway, according to LinkedIn, both ladies are in NYC, working in digital media.
Part of me is almost curious enough to approach them and get to the bottom of why their gifts from Dina ended up in a remainder bin.
Apart from avoiding coming across as a stalker, I might let my curiosity simmer for a while and instead concentrate on appreciating the gifts in my own life that I’ve overlooked.
Obviously, chief among them are Vlad’s many new chew toys nestled in our hall closet, waiting patiently between my winter hats and gloves.
On a deeper level, I’ll use those lines from Hafiz to remind myself whenever discouraged of all that’s still to come, that there’s so much more waiting––like that semi-invitation–-for my own upgraded alignment in order to fully materialize.
And, at the end of the day, if nothing else, there’s something truly satisfying about knowing that whatever else life has in store for you, there’s an unmarked ice cream cake ready and waiting in your freezer.
Truly, it’s the perfect reminder that there will always be something more to celebrate.
Namaste for Now,
