Just Enough Cake
Even though I’m not a copywriter for Hallmark, I am fully confident in stating that a vast majority of ‘humorous’ Birthday cards are general variations of the joke: “You’re not old. Well, not in cheese years.”
And then there's a giant quota that encourage you to forget about getting older by getting drunk instead. Because once you've passed the age of 21, for all their jolly fonts and cartoon comedy, the message of your average birthday card is basically, “The Grim Reaper approaches. Drink yourself into oblivion.”
(And you can probably see why I’m not a Hallmark copywriter.)
My point is that as a society, we don’t really celebrate age. We say we do, but we don't. Every birthday after the age of 30 seems like it ought to be accompanied by an ominous soundtrack.
I’ve been thinking about that a lot of late because this weekend we’re hosting a party for a friend. She’s turning one of those numbers that make people reflective. And because we like her, we’re not getting her a shitty birthday card, but hosting a party instead.
Right up until the age of about 12, I'd have a birthday party every year. Not a fancy pony ride/ petting zoo/ game bus party that were de rigueur for my kids’ generation. No, we had a party at the house, and my mum made little sandwiches and baked a cake, and we played games like Musical Chairs or Pass The Parcel.
(I actually tried to explain Pass The Parcel to my kids once. I told them that before the game starts, a gift is wrapped up in loads and loads of layers of paper. Then, as the game begins, everyone sits in a circle and, when the music plays, they pass the gift around. And then, when the music stops, whoever is holding the parcel gets to unwrap a layer. And so the game continues until all the layers of paper are unwrapped and the last person gets the prize.
And my kids had stared at me blankly, wanting to know when the actual fun bit started. Needless to say, we never played Pass The Parcel at my kids’ parties, and I expect we will not tonight.)
Our friend’s birthday was meant to be just a little dinner party, but then she remembered she’s a bit more popular than she thought, and so now it’s expanded to quite a big affair with some live music in the backyard.
I’m good with that. It’s unexpected, like most of the best things are. And even when they’re not, life is always a bit easier when you go with the flow.
Oh, that’s a phrase you’ll see in a birthday card. “Just remember, on your birthday, it’s always easier to go with the flow.” And then when you open the card, there’s some cartoon drawing of a bloke pouring a giant keg of beer down his throat.
Curse you Hallmark, for ruining perfectly decent sayings with second-rate cartoon imagery.
You see, I use the phrase ‘go with the flow’ a lot. Only nowadays, I’d like not to, because it seems so cheesy. The problem is though that flow is intrinsic to my grown-up job working with narrative.
Because each person has their own different narrative - the noise that goes on between your ears that you think everyone else can hear but nobody else can. And though each person’s narrative is individual to them, the way it flows is pretty universal. The story of us, inside our heads, goes from clear to unclear and clear to unclear, because that's how the little flow engine works. That’s why some mornings, when you wake up, the solution to everything seems to be right in front of your eyes, whereas other mornings you may wake and think. “What the fuck am I even doing with my life?” That’s clear to unclear. It's healthy, actually. That's just flow doing what it does.
So, ‘going with the flow’ means recognizing that as you move from clear to unclear on repeat, how you feel about yourself and the world around you will naturally change. Some days will feel awesome. The other murky days, where everything feels heavy and ominous, you’re not broken; you’re just in the unclear. The trick is to go with it. And because the purpose of life is enlightenment, “going with the flow’ means allowing yourself on the clear days to reflect on how far you’ve come, and on the unclear days to accept how much more there is yet to learn.
Ugh. That sounded too much like motivational speak. And I’m about as much of a fan of motivational speak as I am of bad birthday cards. Not all motivational speak obviously. There’s nothing wrong with a perfectly good platitude to get you through an unclear day. But motivational speak where you’re meant to be winning all the time - that can go suck it.
Stuff like “you can have your cake and eat it too.” Because, ahem, no you can’t. You can either have a cake, or you can eat a cake, in which case you won’t have it anymore. Granted, you could vomit aforesaid cake back up again after you’ve eaten it, in which case, technically yes, I accept that it is possible to still have some form of cake. But is it a form you’d really want to keep in your refrigerator, or display on a lovely platter? I think not.
Anyway, I accept that it’s not always easy for us to go with the flow because we’re generally not brought up that way. Like most people I think, society had me growing up believing that the secret of a happy life was a succession of tick boxes - I pass my exams. I get a college degree. I am a homeowner. I have a job. I drive a car. I have a relationship. Supposedly static places that prove we’re on the right track and have worth.
Except, nothing in existence is static. Even when you feel you’re doing buggar all, your hair has grown, your nails have grown, your skin and bones are a little older, and you’re sitting on a wee blue planet that is twirling at around 1000 miles an hour.
So, sure you might have your college degree, but try dining out on that when you’ve had it for 20 years. As for owning a home, having a job, or driving a car, I think we can all agree they don’t exist without requiring attention. And as for a relationship, it is a living, breathing thing, constantly moving and changing, as living things do.
There’s no other option but to go with the flow because there’s no holding on to time and nothing stays still, and no matter what age you are, there’s always that gnawing consideration that you’re probably not doing it right.
Because not only are we supposed to have a checklist, but we’re supposed to have a checklist with a time limit to it. And look, I get it that benchmarks are important for babies. Takes first steps at a year. Eats with a spoon or fork at 2. That sort of thing. But honestly after the age of 21, that shit ought to stop. Even Hallmark can tell you that. But it doesn’t. So we get anxious at the birthdays ending in a zero or a five, and we see age as something to be ashamed of, rather than what it really is, which is something to truly celebrate.
With age comes maturity, which is not measured in cheese years but in comprehending that life is experiential rather than having to prove a point. Take that Hallmark, and try to accompany it with a perky cartoon of a guy pouring a giant keg of beer down his throat.
You know, I’ve been thinking, maybe existence is like a game of Pass The Parcel. As the music plays you do what needs to be done, and then at times you stop and pull away a layer to see what paper lies underneath. As you do so, you find that some of the layers of wrapping are wonderful and others are a bit shitty. But as the game continues, you realize that it doesn’t matter really because at the end of the game there will be the present, which will be….uhm….yeah…
Maybe the job of motivational speaker is also not for me.
Anyway, this weekend we’re hosting a birthday party for our friend, and it is going to be magic, and we will be celebrating that she is going to be exactly this weekend’s years old.
And at the party there’s going to be cake. And we will be eating it. And then it will be gone. And then before too long, there’ll be another party, and another lovely cake. And you know why? Because that is flow.
Xo
PS: If you can find your way to be brave to click the wee heart on this post to say you like it, it may persuade others to do the same. Manipulative, moi?.
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