“How was your birthday?”

I never really know how to answer those kinds of questions,  do you?
Because the sting of experience tells me it’s maybe a request
for a well-wrapped response,
tidy and concise,  and that stresses me,
like when someone asks “what’s she like?”
and I know they want a category
and it doesn’t come natural for me to think in terms of box and label;
I avoid that kind of thinking.

“Good, thanks…..really beautiful”  I answer, smiling,

but it’s unsatisfying to say
because what my heart wants to pour out is that it was
a gentle rain of sunshine and art supplies and fresh bouquets of soulful words,
lavender and chocolate and bright green kale with mango and lime,
an eclectic smattering of gorgeous cupcakes
and mounds of favorite candy for laughing and giving;

 it was much-loved faces pulled up close around tables
and everyday food infused with magic,
and cookbook and candles and a wealth of roomy choices,
and even though I felt a little mashed in some places
and the headachy bit of living kept being what it is,
it was a steambath of love
and I felt right at home in my life,

like when a song drifts ghostlike across your everyday quiet
and didn’t you dream that before,
the soundtrack your heart’s been noodling with for years,
and you feel peaceful, easy celebration
blossom deep inside
and even time seems to slow down for a listen
and you wonder if  maybe it’s a friendly thing after all,  time,
instead of something to wrestle and resent.

But that’d be too much information,  yes?
Unless you’re blogging.
And so I blog:)

Big bodacious nuzzles to beautiful you:)

“To know what you prefer
instead of humbly saying “amen” to what the world tells you
you ought to prefer
is to keep your soul alive.”
-R.L. Stevenson