I turned 45 this past week. Birthdays aren’t typically monumental days for me. That is not to say I don’t enjoy having a day to celebrate with those I love and have an excuse to do whatever I desire; of course, I eat that up! But I don’t put too much stress on turning another year older. I strive to live each day with gratitude for being alive, thankful for the healthy years I’ve gotten and generally appreciative and aware that this doesn’t go on forever, so I better use my time wisely. I don’t need it to be my birthday to live life fully.

What I do each year on my birthday, however, is awaken with an unusual emotional reflection. I find myself looking back on the previous year and evaluating what that chapter of my life had to say. My day always starts with sitting down at my computer and writing an article for my blog. Something that comes out eloquently and effortlessly. I look forward to these feelings all year long. Not this year. Those feelings never came.

November 25th, 5:30 am, eyes open and…..nothing. No reflective, deeply appreciative thoughts. No memories or life-altering revelations to share with others. Who am I?

Maybe a visit to the gym will spark something in me? An hour in my favorite space proved to be a solid training session. The first day of my 45th year, hitting some skills with ease that don’t typically come easy yet still nothing.

Other than a quick physical evaluation of myself that went a little something like this….

 

“Damn girl! You’re 45 years old?” 

 

 

followed instantaneously by…

 

“Damn girl! You ARE 45 years old!”

 

 

If time alone in the gym didn’t provide some inspiration, I knew there wasn’t much hope of it showing up today. This lack of inspiration is quite common for me these days. I cannot explain why and it is entirely unnerving, considering my career pivots around inspiring others but that’s where I’m at right now. Full disclosure.

I spent the remainder of my birthday enjoying time with my family, savoring a delicious dinner and being truly thankful for yet another day to be alive.

Not a bad way to spend the day. Then I opened this card from my daughter and all of the inspiration I have been lacking these past few months was instantaneously restored.

 

You. Make. Me. Shine.

 

 

Is my 11-year-old daughter really thanking me for teaching her how to be “a loving, wonderful human being?” Is she actually so aware of the fleeting nature of the chapters of our lives that she appreciates there will come a day when she no longer lives under my roof? Vulnerable enough to accept one day our worlds won’t involve each other’s presence on a daily basis?

If I ever doubted the importance of my existence or the significance we each play in the world, this eradicated it. Thank you, my dear child, with a wise, old soul.

She provided me clarity on where my inspiration has been for the past few months. It has been lost in fear and ego.

I am in the infancy stages of changing my professional landscape. Selling a facility I have poured my heart and soul into for nearly a decade. I am building a new brand which is making me feel small. I feel insignificant. Lost in a mob of everyone else trying to get their message in front of a worldwide audience. I am starting from scratch and it is excruciatingly uncomfortable. In order to perfect my message, I am under constant self-scrutiny and evaluation. Looking for flaws and areas to improve upon at the rate of 10 times that of acknowledging my accomplishments.

I’ve been struggling with the answer to the simple question…” what do you do?” 

Until now.

I teach people what it means to be loving, wonderful human beings. What I have instilled in my daughter is what I seek to teach the world. It all starts with the seemingly simple yet surprisingly complex task of teaching people how to EAT. How to move their bodies. Allowing people to be authentic and love themselves first. Reminding people, often times through brutal honesty that they are wasting their lives away by not caring for their physical bodies. I help people SHINE!

Thank you, Scarlett. You reassured my purpose. I am confident if an 11-year-old girl can be shaped by what I teach, the world can be too.