Sinking In (Rest and Release): 40th Birthday Wishes for Myself

After 39 years on this earth, I decided to devote 2024 to my relationship with myself. 

I started off by exploring what ritual and practice I had that was about resourcing me (thanks to the Politics of Trauma Workshop for that gift). I realized I had reading, connecting with my friends and family and being in a job that I love, but little of that was just focused on nourishing me. 

So I started on a journey. I’m so grateful to the healers and guides who have been supporting me in exploring this question and understanding the many living stories in my body and in my life. This included my first excursion into therapy with Resonance Somatic Therapy, beautiful acupuncture experiences with GNP Community Health, releasing constrictions with Meghan at Riverside Therapeutics, finding strength I didn’t know was possible with Lauren Smee, uncovering my and others’ wisdom and joy through care and connection in the System Sangha and many remarkable books read.

I’m also so grateful for the friends and family that have witnessed and journeyed with me and my own privilege in life to be able to explore and take time in this way. 

I’m turning 40 next week (EK!). I’m having a much bigger celebration than maybe I’ve ever had. I’m so excited to just be so joyful for me and all of the people who’ve journeyed alongside me. 

One birthday tradition that is sticking is giving back. You can join me in celebrating by donating to Thrive (a beautiful charity here in our neighbourhood in St. John’s). 

I’m still figuring it out (and probably will be forever), and I have a semblance of what resourcing and replenishing practices look like for me. Over the last number of months, this poem of sorts has been emerging alongside it. 

Sinking In (Rest and Release): 40th Birthday Wishes for Myself

To be held in the truthful and loving gaze of my most dear. 

To enjoy the long road and savour the unexpected. 

To rest into the hammocks that my body has to hold me: my diaphragm, my heart, my eyes. 

To release others’ expectations and rest in resourcing enough from within. 

To rest in love, grief, joy and the magic and messiness of this human experience. 

To trust my roots and sink into my family’s story and my place within it. 

To expand and take up space, to release my fearful constrictions. 

To rest into the hands and hearts of kindred spirits and offer to hold them, too. 

To be more sure of my questions and more uncertain of my answers. 

To sink into what I know to be true and let my light shine ever brighter. 

To rest into the earth below my feet. 

To stand in the wonder and gratitude of my beautiful life.