THE BIGGER PICTURE Carmel WynneHave you ever noticed how often people say: "I know it sounds stupid" before telling you something that is really important for them? The older I get the more conscious I become about how important it is to be respectful of how I feel about anything.
My birthday is next Sunday and as I say goodbye to my 50s this week I'm in a reflective mood. If I had any say in birth months I would try to avoid bringing babies into this world in December and in mid-July.
There are certain childhood deprivations that stay with us. They're not important in the great overall scheme of things but for the person concerned they have a long-term impact that can affect that person for life.
In our society there is a perception that children born too close to Christmas lose out on the birthday booty. At one time when money was scarce this may have been true. But now with the Celtic Tiger it's probably an advantage. There's nothing like a little bit of sympathy to get people to dig deep into their pockets and give generously.
I was born on July 16th and the childhood deprivations of my mid-summer birthday were of no importance to anyone but me. As a child I was the only girl in my class who never got off homework for her birthday because it took place during the school holidays.
Back in those dim and distant years, children didn't get their holidays until the second week in July. Getting off homework was a big treat. I'm astonished that I even remember this, yet I don't believe it is stupid.
Isn't it strange that you can have forgotten about something for decades. Then some little incident occurs and in memory you are back in those childhood feelings. The disappointment is as real and painful as when it originally happened.
My coming birthday triggered forgotten memories. Those buried feelings emerged in all their immature glory when I thought about how I want to celebrate my birthday and realised that on the day I will be out of the country.
An event that may seem trivial to someone who has not had your experience can be hugely significant to the person involved. I don't know how it is for you but inside me there are different parts that think different thoughts about the same event.
There is the adult part of me that is sensible about my coming birthday. Having a big party on the day is out of the question. There is also the vulnerable little girl part that is filled with disappointment, triggered back into the childhood feelings of missing a treat that other birthday celebrators enjoy.
Whenever we have an emotional response triggered by a memory the feelings that well up are real. The experience of joy or grief is as pleasant or painful as if the event were happening in reality. Our brains cannot differentiate between fantasy and reality.
One of the great life lessons is how simple life really is when we drop our fantasies. Our feeling emotional responses is real. To believe we are stupid for thinking or feeling as we do is like apologising for being who we are.
One of the lovely things about getting older is that I have learned to accept myself for who I am. I practise "enlightened self-interest" - that is another way of saying healthy selfishness.
My wonderful daughters organised a "non-birthday" celebration for me last weekend. Sensitive to how I might feel about my age they were careful to make sure that none of the table decoration had a number. I don't care if it sounds stupid but I felt like a little girl when I saw the huge girly pink "Birthday Girl" disk that reserved my place.
I loved the decorated table. It felt like the disappointment of all the missed childhood birthday treats melted away and for one moment I felt like a 10-year-old birthday girl with the biggest badge going to have a party.
My non-birthday was magic. I enjoyed every minute of the evening. I unashamedly brought home the two helium-filled Pooh Bear balloons with "Happy birthday from us all" and a gaudy sign that opened out like those old-fashioned pleated paper Christmas bell decorations and put them in my bedroom.
You wouldn't believe the delight I experience every morning when I wake up and realise that I have more wonderful days of anticipating my real birthday.
Even if this seems stupid it's important to me. I delight in the simple pleasures that make me happy. Perhaps that's the wisdom that comes with age.
Carmel Wynne is a life skills and business coach, a master practitioner in Neuro Linguistic Programming (NLP) and psychotherapist.
www.carmelwynne.org