What does it mean to celebrate?

As the holiday season approaches, life has brought me some interesting experiences that has me contemplating the value of celebration. The dictionary defines a celebration as “the action of marking one’s pleasure at an important event or occasion by engaging in enjoyable, typically social, activity.” And this time of year, tends to open people up to celebration for various reasons. Whether you are celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year’s, or anything in between, this time of year is mostly an invitation to celebrate.

And that got me thinking about my relationship to celebration. My family of origin are not the kind of people that celebrate much, and I guess I grew up with a sense that celebrations are something to get through, rather than something to enjoy. Momentous occasions such as birthdays, graduations, and weddings often turned into chaos. We had a hard time celebrating anything without it turning into some kind of drama or mess. And I think over time I started to believe that celebrations are just opportunities for chaos. I started to believe that I’m not worth celebrating and that whatever I value is not important.

Over time, I started to resist celebrating anything. Add to this the development of my Perfectionist Self who believed that something had to be truly spectacular before it’s worth celebrating, and that one does not celebrate oneself. Rather, it’s up to others to let you know when you’ve done enough that is worthy of celebration, so they feel compelled to celebrate. This, of course is a recipe for disappointment every time.

Having this attitude towards celebrations meant that not only did I hardly ever celebrate my birthday, but I also let significant milestones in my life go by without pausing to really celebrate the significance of those milestones, out of fear that if I were to celebrate, I would be judged as being selfish or full of myself, or that it would turn into a disaster. Many a ruined birthday spent in tears, or going to bed hungry, many a graduation feeling like I just wanted to run away from it all, and even my wedding day spent in tears and turmoil, had me simply avoid being with any form of celebration.

I started to dim my light so as not to outshine others, because my mom would have me believe that I’m selfish and inconsiderate. So, when everyone else is feeling stressed, worried, concerned, heartbroken, grief, whatever… and something exciting or amazing happens in my life, I simply keep it to myself out of fear that I would be accused of being selfish again. I just tone it down. And pretend it’s not that big of a thing, or not that important.

A significant series of events recently, brought this forward in my consciousness this week and I reached out to my coach for support on it. Two weeks ago, we finally became citizens of Canada during a Citizenship Oath Ceremony. This has been five years in the making. It took tremendous sacrifice and hard work to reach this point. And five years ago, this milestone felt unimaginable. We had set the intention and we were clear on the five-year plan, and we had no idea how it would unfold, and what we were going to navigate to create this in our lives. And here we are, five years later, and I finally get to call myself a Canadian citizen.

So much has changed over the last five years. I have grown so much, learnt so much, and my perspective on a lot of things has changed. Five years ago, I was very resistant to coming to Canada. I honestly didn’t want to be here. I felt heartbroken and lost, and there was so much grief over the life we gave up and the loved ones we left behind.

Now, I’m so grateful to be here, to get to be here in this beautiful place at this time, and to do the work I get to do in the world. There are no words to describe the work and the sacrifices that have gone into creating this, and the sense of deep gratitude and awe I feel about what has transpired over the last five years. Coming to Canada has transformed me in ways I never thought possible and I’m truly grateful for every step of the journey.

On top of this personal milestone, I also reached a significant milestone in my business in the same week. I reached my financial goal for the year. Again, a goal that felt like a huge stretch for me at the start of the year. Reaching this financial goal is not just about the money. It speaks to my entire relationship to money, and to my growth and development as a coach over the last four years. It speaks to the deep inner and outer work that has gone into creating this business and breaking through some self-created mental ceilings about what I could or could not earn. Four years ago, there was no business. There was only a dream. Now, I am living a dream I had set out to create four years ago. Some of it still feels unreal, almost magical, to me.

I also reached 1 000 hours of coaching, which demonstrates my commitment to this work and my commitment to never stop coaching. It represents my dedication to my clients and my work. It represents my learning and growth in the three years since I started my business.

I keep thinking of my friend who is a helicopter pilot. In his world, they count flying hours under the belt as a measure of experience and seniority. The more incident-free hours a pilot has, the more experienced he is, and the more respected he is. Which of course makes sense, because having the theoretical knowledge of how a helicopter works, is not the same as the practical experience of FLYING one. It’s in the experience of flying that one truly grows as a pilot, not in passing any of the exams, or knowing a lot about helicopters.

And so it is with coaching. I can understand what coaching means. I can understand the magic of a powerful question. I can learn new tools and methods, but ultimately, I can never become a great coach if I don’t coach. The best way to become a masterful coach is to coach, as often and as much as you can. Steve Chandler would say, to reach mastery, there is only one path: you need to “coach, coach, coach your butt off”. That’s it. There is not other way.

And I have been fully committed to this work for three yeas. I have embraced this as my profession, as the work I want to do in this world. I have sat with 100 people in 1 016 hours of deep conversation, and every single hour was filled with learning and new insights. Every single hour shaped who I have become. I’m I different person to the person who recorded her very first hour of coaching three years ago.

Two other significant events transpired during this time. I belong to an incredible community of coaches who are deeply committed to this work. And a valued member of this community died suddenly. It brought shock and grief to everyone who knew her, and in many ways how this coach lived her life, spoke to those of us in the community and reminded each of us, what we are committed to, and that life is so short. We never know how much time we have. And if we want to live our lives on purpose, then we need to make that choice NOW, and not wait until tomorrow or some unknown day that never comes.

As my community was mourning, I noticed my reluctance to share any of the significant milestones I had reached. I noticed how I just kept putting it off, telling myself, now is not the right time to share this. Everyone is still reeling from shock and grief. I will wait. I will choose a different time when things settle down more. And of course, as the days go by, I find myself less and less inspired to share these milestones. Why? Well, I tell myself, the time has passed now. It would be weird to bring it up now. And I start to question whether it is significant enough to share…

And then over the weekend, I received news that my uncle had passed away after two months in ICU struggling to breathe and fighting for his life. His daughter (my cousin) had passed away from COVID a little more than a year ago. So, there it is. Death shows up. Death brings grief and pain. And death brings perspective.

On Monday, I took out the Christmas tree and I let my kids decorate the tree. They love to decorate the tree. It’s one of our favourite family holiday traditions. We don’t have many, but the few we do have, are special to us. I love to watch them decorate the tree. Their eyes sparkle. They are filled with joy and excitement. And my heart feels full. There is nothing as pure as the pure and innocent joy of a child looking at the sparkling lights on a Christmas tree.

And my mom is upset about the festive atmosphere we have in our home. To her it seems inappropriate for us to feel celebratory during this time of grief in the family. And I sit with this. And here is what I discovered.

Grief and joy are not mutually exclusive. They can exist in the same place at the same time. If immigrating has taught me anything, it’s the duality of life. I can be both joyful and in grief at the same time. I can be heartbroken and missing my loved ones, and happy and in awe about something I’m seeing or experiencing for the first time. I can hold space for BOTH of those states to be true. In fact, I’ve learnt to live in that duality. So, I can honour others’ grief, worry, stress, concern, whatever, AND my own joy and celebration at the same time. It doesn’t mean I have to tone down my own enthusiasm.

And what I notice now is how I’ve done that all my life – ignored my accomplishments, played down my achievements, and even judged others for celebrating what I would consider “small wins” not worth celebrating.

This was a powerful insight into how this is simply another version of the “I’m not enough” story I tend to run as a soundtrack in my head. Most of how I sabotage myself is simply me playing out a version of “I’m not enough”. I would tell myself I haven’t done enough yet to celebrate. Or it’s not worthy of celebration, because it’s not a significant enough milestone, etc.

I remember about 13 years ago, I shared with my therapist that I was completing my master’s and she asked me whether I was going to celebrate. So, of course, I launched into my story of “Oh no, I don’t do celebrations, because they always turn into a mess. I’d rather just not do anything”. She suggested we slow that down and that we look at the significance of the two years that had gone by and the commitment, dedication, hours of hard work and deliberate effort that had gone into obtaining my master’s degree, and she insisted I celebrate. And she said these words to me: “This is your day. Celebrate in a way that is meaningful to you and don’t let anyone rob you of your joy.”

At the time those words landed so powerfully, so I chose to celebrate in a way that was meaningful to me. I booked a private room in one of my favourite restaurants and invited my friends and family to come and celebrate with me. And as predicted, my family went out of their way to ruin the celebration.

What was different this time, is that I did not let them rob me of my joy. I chose to stick to my intention and to what I wanted the celebration to mean to me, and even when they behaved badly, I did not let it upset me as it usually would have. I let it go. I chose to stay present. And I celebrated the work, the effort, the tears and sweat, the deep commitment and insights that had gone into obtaining that qualification and all that it meant to me at that time in my life.

And suddenly, I was free in a way I had never been. There was something about that night that stuck with me. The reminder to acknowledge what it took to get to certain point in my life. The sacrifices that had been made. The level of commitment, dedication, and hard work that was required.

However, despite that significant moment in time, I still only reserved celebrations for “big” milestones. Or at least what I considered “big” or “significant” milestones. Since that day, I celebrated my wedding day and the day I obtained my PhD, but not much else, to be honest. There was still this lingering mindset that happenings in life need to be “significant enough” to justify a celebration. I even let a milestone birthday pass without much fanfare, because I bought into the stories from my family that insisting that we celebrate would be selfish and arrogant.

Then I met my coach who considers celebration a critical part of life. In the first year of working with her, I noticed how often she celebrates, and also how SHE celebrates her OWN birthday. She doesn’t wait for others to wish her happy birthday. She shares that it’s her birthday, and she consciously chooses to celebrate her birthday. That really stood out for me. I remember thinking, “Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t it be so nice to simply celebrate without feeling the need to explain why or justify it in some way, or having to wait for others to make a fuss to give myself permission for a ‘fuss’”.

Of course, I married a man who doesn’t celebrate either. I unconsciously attracted someone who would participate with me in not celebrating.  It’s been a struggle throughout our marriage. I recall how many times I have felt resentful towards my husband for forgetting my birthday, or not making a fuss on my birthday, or not understanding that I wanted to celebrate. Of course, I wouldn’t dare tell him that, because I was telling myself that it would mean that I’m selfish and self-involved, and too self-centred, or arrogant or whatever. I imagined that if I celebrate HIM enough, he would eventually realise that I would also appreciate a celebration on My birthday and he would arrange something.

I laugh out loud as the absurdity of that now. He was never going to read my mind and know what I wanted. He was never going to understand the psychological game I was playing with myself that always had me losing. He was simply going to be his authentic self and do his thing. My resentment wouldn’t change that. It would simply sour the relationship.

How many ruined, sad, unhappy birthdays built on expectations instead of agreements or requests. And then last year I stopped. I made the choice to celebrate the fact that I’m alive. And that to me is the ultimate gift, and worth celebrating. I don’t need permission to be joyful about being alive. I don’t need permission to celebrate the years of my life. I can simply invite others to share my joy. And for the last two years, I’ve had meaningful birthdays. Why? Because I created the birthday I wanted. I chose to celebrate because I felt like celebrating, and not because of any outside expectations.

Not waiting for others to notice, to remember, to make a fuss, was so freeing. I had no expectations of others and that opened me up to receive so much love and to truly feel celebrated by those close to me. Every single message or gesture was a gift and a surprise. I never imagined that my heart could be so full on a birthday.

My coach’s logic is sound. If we don’t pause, celebrate, acknowledge, how will we continue to aspire to greatness? How will we continue to stay ambitious and committed to our greatest dreams and goals? What will keep us motivated to keep working at things that are hard and challenging? Just the other day, she pointed out to me that if I don’t acknowledge what I have created over the last five years, I will find subtle ways to sabotage my efforts at expanding, simply because inside I would create some resistance. If I don’t appreciate my own efforts, how will I convince myself to keep going? If I don’t celebrate how far I’ve come, I will feel little motivation to keep going. I would naturally resist doing more, because what I have done isn’t being appreciated.

And that is so true. I saw that play out in my family. I would clean, and cook, and bake, and do all kinds of things for my parents, only to be beaten up, or for my dad to throw a plate against a wall and tell me that he won’t be eating the shit I prepared for dinner. So, by the time I was almost finished with high school, I rebelled. I refused to bake for Christmas – I used to bake Christmas cookies every year. I refused to cook dinner. I simply refused to help out, because no matter what I did, I was always in trouble. I was always slapped, or I would inevitably pick up food from the floor. So, I went on strike. I created inner resistance to wanting to do more, because I wasn’t being appreciated and acknowledged.

And there it was. Celebration is acknowledgment. Celebration is appreciation. Celebration is gratitude. Celebrating means I acknowledge myself for my commitment, my dedication, my hard work, my willingness to continue to grow and learn. Celebrating means I appreciate the wonderful blessings and gifts I have received. I don’t simply take them for granted. It’s what Lynne Twist meant when she said, “What I appreciate, appreciates.” The more I appreciate all that I have received, the more I invite joy in, the more life will bring me more of it, because what I appreciate will appreciate. Lastly, celebrating is the ultimate expression of gratitude. We are saying thank you for what we have received. We are choosing to see life as beautiful, rich, and rewarding, even amidst the challenges, the struggles, and the pain that are also part of life.

Celebrations are not just meant for “big” or “significant” events. They are meant to be built into the very fabric of our day-to-day life. I can choose to celebrate that a coaching call went well. Or that a prospective client said yes to working with me. I can choose to feel excited about a planned dinner with friends or family. Celebrating on a regular weeknight or Saturday evening, is an expression of gratitude for friendship, for a sense of belonging, for community, for love.

I can celebrate the first snow fall of the Winter by running around in the snow with my kids. I can put my Christmas tree up and watch my children’s eyes sparkle as they make a big fuss over glittering lights and plastic ornaments. And I can choose to soak it up and let my heart steep in it, even while I’m holding space for grief, for sadness, for longing to also co-exist in my heart.

Living and loving full-out means I give as much space to celebration, excitement, awe, giddiness, and joy as I give to pain, grief, frustration, anger, and other lower frequency emotions. We are capable of holding space for both and my own wisdom tells me that I cannot truly appreciate real joy, awe, and wonder, without holding space for grief and sadness too. These states of being are not mutually exclusive. They co-exist.

I choose to be in celebration. I choose to not hold off on appreciation and acknowledgement. The world is hungry for it. And if I want to see more acknowledgment and more gratitude in my community and in the world, it always starts with me and with how I appreciate myself, acknowledge myself, express my gratitude for all that I have received.