Skip to main content

Just Because It's Ordinary Doesn't Mean It's Not Worth Celebrating

To be honest with you, I think things as simple as getting out of bed in the morning should be celebrated. I think that being human and having the strength to keep trying despite countless failures or disappointments should be celebrated. I think going on first dates again after getting heartbroken should be celebrated. I think Wednesday afternoons should be celebrated just the same as Friday nights. I think that going on a job interview deserves celebration the same way actually getting said job does. I think girls who don't put makeup on every morning and who go to school in sweats should be celebrated the same way supermodels are. I think men who cry should be celebrated for being vulnerable like that rather than shamed for showing weakness. I think in a lot of ways, the secret to being happy is celebrating the things that are normal and routine to us.

Why?

Because it's easy to get overwhelmed. It's easy to see approaching deadlines and panic. It's easy to feel like we're falling behind when we've studied 10 hours for an exam and haven't even touched our other homework. It's easy to get caught up in paying bills and end up making multiple trips to the grocery store in a week because we forget the things we went there for in the first place even though we told ourselves we would STICK TO THE LIST. Does anyone actually stick to the list anyway?

It's easy to add things to our to-do lists as we go about our days and then end up almost falling asleep in the shower because we're just. so. exhausted. We're used to all of that. We've all been there, and if you haven't, you're lying. It's easy to not know what's coming and to be anxious about the future. We all know what that worry feels like.

But hear me out.

What if instead of just accepting parts of regular daily life, we started celebrating them? What if we started recognizing our own efforts more often and praising each other for things we're used to overlooking? What if we started bringing cupcakes to work on a Monday and not because it's somebody's birthday, but just to make the Monday suck a little bit less?

You know what inspired this work? A coughing fit. I started coughing in the middle of my dead-quiet office at work, and a coworker turned to me and said, "bless you."

"Thank you," I told him. "But I didn't sneeze.."

"I know," he responded. "I just thought you might like to hear it anyway."

He was right, and that 10 second interaction stuck with me. It made me wonder why we only say "bless you" when someone sneezes. It made me wonder why we really only seem to check on each other when we know someone is upset. It made me question why we celebrate straight A students but not B students who put in their best effort. It made me wonder why we send good morning texts to our significant others but not our friends and family. It made me wonder why we don't stop and celebrate the most ordinary parts of life more often.

Barely an hour ago, my mom came home and my brother showed her how nicely he had cleaned his room. She was in shock. "WOW," she said. "THIS. LOOKS. AWESOME." And it did.

"In other news, I made my bed for the first time in two months," I said. "Changed the sheets and everything."

"CONGRATULATIONS YOU GUYS!!" my mom told us. "YOU GUYS MAKE ME SO HAPPY!!!"

And yeah, I know I should make my bed every day. But my life is insane, and tonight, having the time to change my sheets and nicely make it up felt like a huge victory. As little as it was, it felt like it deserved just a little celebration.

Photo Diary

The other night I got into bed with freshly shaved legs, newly painted nails and a head start on tomorrow's to-do list ALL  before 10 p.m. That was a victory in itself, so I lit a candle and gave myself some time to read poetry. Protecting my mental health is an adventure to say the least, but so worth it when I get even a few minutes of peace. 

And everything feels like a celebration with this one. 
Maybe because I get to see him at the ends of long days and weeks, maybe because he's my motivation to work hard, or maybe just because I'm inexplicably in love with him. All I know for the time being is that life is going to go on and that we will take it on together. 
As I told one of my friends last week, I think I cried all the fluid out of my body over the course of about 15 hours. But the next day my mama and I went for Saigon, and there's nothing the #49 and an order of egg rolls can't heal. It was our way of celebrating making it through a sleepless night of smeared mascara and scratchy voices. Wake up, get Saigon, go to bed victorious. Check.  
I spent 10 hours of my weekend in a crowded, chaotic, beautifully lit arena full of people celebrating life. People all in one place, avoiding reality and responsibilities, spending hours singing and dancing even to songs they didn't know. Drunk women in the bathroom were complimenting each other and laughing about everything. By the time I left, my head was pounding, my ears were ringing and my voice was gone- but my heart was full. There's nothing better than when thousands of people get together to celebrate nothing in particular, and everything at the same time. 
Raw. Naked face. Unbrushed hair. Human chaos. 1:30 a.m. Natural. Ordinary. 
Confidence was still there and worth capturing. 
Self love is worth celebrating.
Being alive is worth celebrating.
You are worth celebrating. 

So starting tomorrow, let's do better. Let's celebrate more.

Have a good night and a good life. 
XOX 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ohana Means Family.

I have about a million things to do, so this seems like the best time to finally sit down and blog again. The important things are done -- my income taxes, the housework, the med management. The dogs are calm, the dishes are clean, and the windows are open for some much needed serotonin.  The truth is, it's been a long time since I've had the motivation (and the time, and most importantly the energy), to write. I'm still adjusting to working 40+ hours a week in a very people-y career field after I spent 8 months being told by doctors that it probably wasn't going to be possible for a very long time.  In 2022 when it was discovered I would need a liver transplant, my whole world came to a very sudden stop. Then in early 2023, when I was still very sick but doctors determined a liver transplant wasn't even going to be a safe option for treatment, my mental health hit rock bottom. I had never experienced fear, and anxiety, and depression to that extreme a degree. I had...

"Long Story Short... I Survived" (Semester 1)

4 months of practicum, 3 months of classes, and for the love of God what feels like a lifetime later... I'm done with my first semester of graduate school. I don't know how to feel, so please don't ask me. All the things. Every single one.  This semester was challenging in ways I never imagined, but damn. It was also the most fun I've ever had. Being a social work graduate student is a very strange experience, or at least it has been. Some days I felt like a helpless baby, other days I felt like a superhero. It all depended on the client, the circumstances, and the vibes. Most importantly the vibes, let's be real.  What I didn't realize when I applied for an advanced degree in social science was that it would require an unreal amount of vulnerability and discomfort. I didn't expect so many conversations about the political climate, or the obscene number of Discord notifications blowing up my phone at midnight, or the willingness of professors to meet my cla...

Small World, Big Feelings.

Today was my first day of graduate school. Or eighteenth grade. I like calling it that. Somehow it makes it seem less daunting and more like something I'm supposed to show up to in an outfit my mom picked out, holding crayons she bought for me. But that isn't the reality. In reality it was a 15 hour day. 15 hours isn't much time, but it is. Trust me, it is. But damn, it was a good day. I'm finally back in a place where I feel like I belong. I'm coming back to the same university where I did my undergraduate work and I guess part of me thought it would feel the same... but everything is so different now. I'm coming back smarter, stronger, less apologetic, more open-minded, with a bunch of diagnoses I didn't have five years ago. I've gotten married since I left. I've learned I had a chronic medical condition since I left. I've learned most importantly that the energy and love I've poured into my academic and professional careers is going to do ...