What does it mean when you forget your own birthday?

Birthdays, nueroscience, and gathering around basil

Chocolates I made years back

One of my best friends called me a few weeks back. I remember having a quick but good conversation. I was on my computer doing some writing if I remember correctly but I couldn’t remember for the life of me why he called. It was a little random I thought. I was definitely surprised to hear the phone. It took me two days for it to occur to me…it was my birthday. 

I’m someone who could love my birthday. My brother and I used to quote Indiana Jones, “It’s not the years, it’s the mileage.” As a highly sensitive person who has spent years in hospitality, several years living at home, and a few more clawing at personal pursuits attempting to build a better me (while being highly protective in these environments it’s very hard for me to be authentic in) I’ve put a lot of miles on my brainium. The fact that it was my birthday didn’t really change much. 

I spoke recently with a dear friend who offered me the thought of being thankful. And she’s right. Just like my coach was when she said, “Look how far you’ve come since we started working together. You’ve gotten your chronic pain under control. You are confident in what you want to do. You have the tools, and have used them, to communicate in dating, to be more understanding of yourself.”

I’m pretty against any reason that would keep me in my home town so I don’t get out much. But hey! I know that if I say, “I find you really interesting, I’m not looking for something long term right now because I have no idea where I will be in a year or two.” That’s me being honest based on communication and my experience with where I’m at. But it depends on the receiver on how I’m perceived. Honesty is a hard sell these days. 

A few months back I told two very good friends who are married, “I have no interest in dating because I don’t have my own space or routines or sense of self so how or why would I want to try to fit somebody else in when I don’t fit into my own life? I said the same thing through gritted teeth when a family member asked, “Do you want me to set you up?” He showed me a picture and said she was a winemaker. Thanks but no thanks. I wasn’t into her and winemaking in Napa isn’t that impressive to me. I love a good Hallmark trope and she looked nice but still no. I’m a little too close to this industry for comfort already. 

Fast forward two days from those conversations, I’m serving a family and the sharp tongued romantic daughter (twenties) who I would learn embroidered unironically and whose favorite show is the Love Boat, couldn’t keep our words off of each other. We both appreciated art and her spirit made me love life. We exchanged numbers and when I finally asked her out the next day she said she was nervous because she wasn’t sure if I liked her. That wasn’t planned and that, exhausted as I am, I could fit into my life. From the start there was communication and hard questions. 

It didn’t work out. We had an amazing date, amazing chemistry, and I could have even gotten over how she didn’t like salt in desserts. At least I can say, it didn’t work out and we were both honest. And both wished each other well and meant it. 

So am I thankful for that? And the other big things that have happened? Yeah, absolutely. And I know I need to be better about expressing that. I just don’t feel that much of anything right now. All I do is deflect. It’s part of my job. It’s part of keeping the peace while I live at home. Honesty really is a hard sell even when there’s love involved. I’m appreciative of what I get from my family too. I just know I have so much more to give and it drives me mad that I feel like I’m not doing it…even if I am…just not fast enough. I know I would have a better relationship with everybody if I had my own space. I could be more honest. I could be the black sheep and not have to hear about it. 

Recently my cousin asked family and friends to make a feel good video for her brother who had cancer for his birthday. “Nothing talking about bad news. No crying unless we were crying laughing.” It reminded me of Priya Parker and the ways we come together and ways we gather. This was progressive and out of the box for my family. I recited a video of me talking like Carl Spackler from Caddyshack as my cousin is a golfer. I finished by reciting the full Cinderalla Story part.

Maybe it was dumb but it was better than, “Hey, I’m so sorry you’re dying. THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS.” 

It shouldn’t have to take a birthday or a video for someone dying to remind me to think outside of the box and be lighter. It’s also not healthy to be on the same wavelength of people who you know aren’t on the same wavelength of your goals. Not because they aren’t supportive, just because they are in such a different place in life. You’re not approaching problems with congruence at a certain point. You have to be careful with your words and choose your battles. (Also, I’m pretty sure this is the reason punk music exists but I’m gonna have to do a deeper dive on that.)

An article on Scientific American states: 

Collective neuroscience, as some practitioners call it, is a rapidly growing field of research. An early, consistent finding is that when people converse or share an experience, their brain waves synchronize. Neurons in corresponding locations of the different brains fire at the same time, creating matching patterns, like dancers moving together. Auditory and visual areas respond to shape, sound and movement in similar ways, whereas higher-order brain areas seem to behave similarly during more challenging tasks such as making meaning out of something seen or heard. The experience of “being on the same wavelength” as another person is real, and it is visible in the activity of the brain.

In a recent Priya Parker newsletter titled 5 ways to gather without breaking the bank there was a creative idea of something someone did on their birthday that was creative, authentic and really inspiring. 

3. Give people a dose of what gives you joy.

Matt was in the midst of training for his third marathon when he turned 40. The day of his birthday fell on a 20-mile practice run. Instead of a party, he sent his favorite people a spreadsheet. It was an invitation to a 40th jog-a-thon. Guests could participate in three ways: run one lap, ten laps, or (my personal favorite) cheer like hell from the sidelines. When they RSVP’d, they were asked for their favorite workout song. The only rule: “No Imagine Dragons or Taylor Swift.” The day of, his friends and family gathered at the high school track. There was a sign-making station, and guests ran with Matt as their song blasted from a speaker. People brought their kids, who skateboarded around the track. And when Matt finished, they all cheered and sang.

It’s rare to get to experience one another’s joys and worlds, even (especially?) when they’re not necessarily yours. It’s an expansive experience. What a wonderful thing to get to stretch each other as friends.

​Ask: Is there a passion (or tiny but enthusiastic hobby) that I could share with my people in an accessible, energizing way?

I received this email ON MY BIRTHDAY. Ain’t that some sh. 

It’s a little past my birthday but I’m aching for community and to gather with people I’ve connected with either in life or through photography or both. I considered doing a photo get together where I brought all my cameras, a bunch of cheap film and we all took pictures. I could teach some film photography, I could get it developed. Obviously there’s a cost in this but there’s also so much connection that could happen. 

I just don’t want to be in a place in life where I forget why a friend called and have to rack my brain to remember it was my birthday. In the world's eyes, birthdays stop mattering after you can rent a car. In the world's eyes thoughts and prayers are enough. In the eyes of conscious humans life deserves to be celebrated and thoughts communicated. At this point in the article I think we’ve both decided I have some work to do on this. Thankfully my new favorite thought-leader Priya had another low cost idea for gathering. 

5. Keep it absurdly simple.

When your garden unexpectedly grows a bumper crop of basil, do as Carol did: invite friends to sit in the garden, drink basil mocktails, and eat handmade pizzas topped with piles of fresh basil. When the temperature breaks 60 degrees for the first time in spring, text friends to meet in the park wearing that one item of clothing they can only wear for those two perfect days a year (hello short-sleeved sweater!). When you realize, as a colleague of mine did, that you have accumulated a bunch of inflatable pool loungers despite not having a pool, invite neighbors and kids to come “float” in your backyard (sprinklers and sunscreen provided). The more absurd, the better (massive traditions have started with much less). Novelty, you see, lies in the specific. When you pick just one thing to gather around instead of putting out a full (and pricy) spread, you instill that object with a gravitational pull.
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Ask: What’s an unexpected boon or object or first harvest (my cilantro window plant bloomed!) that you could invite folks to gather around?

So my new plan for the summer (year, life?) is to gather around basil the same way Jack Kerouac gathered around a dime in On the Road. 

Lastly, I cooked this steelhead trout the other day so perfectly. I love fish and want to show you what I’ve learned about cooking it one day soon. I used to be afraid of cooking fish. Look how freaking gorgeous these fillets are. Cooking is magic.

With love in the pursuit of play,

Kevin

P.S. Oh, and while we’re here, we can do better than spelling bees. I LOVE this idea. 

At a time when educators may face restrictions on what they can teach, a contest sponsored by the non-profit organization National History Day offers students in grades 6-12 the opportunity to explore significant topics of history. Correspondent Faith Salie talks with some of the young people using writing, performance art and documentary filmmaking to tell stories of the past that resonate today, proving that history never gets old.