I admit, I shouldn’t live where I do.
The woods where I live are wild and pristine; habitat, and not for humans.
While my footprint is small and I’m a pretty quiet and respectful human, I still have a house where the creatures native to this cove should have privacy.
I get that.
But alas, I do live here, and so I get to see a lot of fellow mammals.
And on my birthday, the first birthday of my whole entire life spent all by myself, I had an incredible sighting.
On the morning of my birthday, I was staring blissfully out the window (a favorite Piscean pastime), and I saw a neighbor.
A big orange fox with a white chin and a plumed tail.
She was alone (like me).
She dug a hole for a while, her plumed tail waving.
She paused and groomed herself, scratching behind her ears and licking her orange coat, untangling the fur on her tail.
Then she leapt about 5 feet up onto a fallen tree, wrapped her tail around her front paws, and chilled.
All alone, a belly full of whatever she dug up, a coat cleaned and put right; a fellow mammal finding a lovely spot to relax and admire the morning.
So I decided to do that too.
I spent the whole day finding one spot after another to admire the view: my life.
Alone, I could hear myself think, I could adequately revel and reflect, I could commune with the divine. I could stand at the vista overlooking the previous year and all the previous years, and chill.
And realize that so often I say “alone” when what I really mean is “the only human”. (More on that in future blogs)
But anyway, best birthday ever.
And I mean that.
Of course I totally reveled in the cards that came in the mail, the beautiful birthday wishes on texts and social media, the voicemails of beloveds singing to me.
But the ability to be alone, the skill of finding total comfort, peace, and contentment, even if only for a fleeting second on most days, in my own company is the big gift.
Like that fox.
I may never see her like that again.
It may continue as it usually does; seeing her prints, scat, or having a faint sense that she’s nearby.
But remembering her chillin’ up in that tree, alone, will stay with me.
OK, before you are at all tempted to reply with “hang in there, you’ll find love one day and there’s a perfect man out there for you and next year you’ll spend your birthday with the love of your life”, wait a sec.
Don’t miss my point.
In cultivating a deep relationship with my Self and an ease at being alone, I don’t then render myself a recluse, a loner, or uninterested in companions.
This fox lives in a little den with other foxes, I know this.
And yet she enjoyed a moment alone instead of racing off the be with her crew.
It is important, and not just to me, to cultivate ease with one’s own company.
That way, one avoids being a clingy pain in the ass who treats relationships as space-fillers, distractions, or entertainment.
So, that’s where I’m coming from.
I have an astrological placement that encourages me to always question the reason I am in a relationship, any relationship.
I like this prompt.
It gives me pause to consider my motives, and also the being I’m connecting with. It’s considerate.
And one of those beings is myself.
If I am only in relationship with myself because “I have nothing better”, I’m single, there’s-a-pandemic-and-I’m-isolated, that’s an awful feeling.
Have you ever spent time with someone knowing full well that you were the last one they called, the only one that would hang out with them, the last resort? It’s a shitty feeling.
So why treat your self like that?
I mean, with this in mind, who better to spend a birthday with than my very own self?
It’s the highest compliment, the sweetest gesture; pure self love.
Happy Birthday to me.
love & birthdays,
PS: no filter or Photoshop! The skin and the crows feet are accurate. This is 46. 🙂