29.
Happy Birthday to Me! On Angel Numbers, Polaroids, Puppy Yoga, and Past Selves
Hi!
Remember when I said I’d pop in with a personal essay on a day other than Wednesday, while we continue the '“what authenticity means to me” interview series? Here I am! It’s my birthday, so I had to say hi!
I’ve been loving the interview series so far, and there is so much goodness in store. I literally can’t wait for you to check out tomorrow’s interview. I say this every week, but it is SO good.
In the meantime, I wanted one-on-one time with you on my 29th birthday. I could have split this essay into two (there is a very clear break when I could have stopped and just saved the rest for another time) but you know what? It’s my birthday! No rules! If you’re reading this, I trust that you don’t think my essays are too long, and that I’m “too much.” And if you do think that, might I recommend a short poem?
If you’re listening to the audio for this essay, you can hear how hard I’m laughing right now. (I also really recommend the audio this week, it’s a fun one and there are quite a few songs ahead.)
Okay, on with the essay.
I’ve been really into numbers lately. Angel numbers, specifically. I started seeing them a lot this fall, did a little research, and kept noticing them more and more.
Once I knew what angel numbers were - and developed a slight amount of belief in them - I couldn’t stop seeing them.
It was like the angels got the memo that they could speak to me in this way, and were like “She’ll listen if we send her numbers!!! Bring in the numbers!!”
I’m a believer, it’s chaos
Where are our leaders? Oh, oh, oh
I’d rather save an angel down
*This entire album is MAGIC. Shoutout to one of my best friends, Jessica (a fellow February birthday girl!) who texted me on New Year’s Eve in 2016 and told me to listen to this album in full. I was ironically with our best friend Julia at the time (we all met in college!) and we played this album for the first time while getting ready for a fun New Year’s Eve dinner. If you two are reading this - we clearly must dance to this album again when we’re together in a few months!
Every single day since mid-October, I have seen a series of repeating numbers, at least 5x a day. Sometimes on the hour, every hour.
The number I see most frequently - which I’ve now claimed as my number - is 2:22.
I was born on February 20th. 2/20. In the middle of the night.
One could say the 2s have been with me for longer than I’ve known.
And so here I am, entering the final year of my 20s, surrounded by 2s.
It’s safe to say that 2s now hold a very special space in my heart, and have been providing me with some much-needed comfort.
My angel numbers are like an anchor number of some sort, telling me to get grounded and breathe deep.
And yes, I’ll admit it. Every time I see an angel number, I can hear a little voice whispering “Everything’s going to be okay.” They’re like a constant reminder to check in with myself.
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I’ll cross the stream. I have a dream.
A friend also recently taught me about life numbers. Mine is 1. Conv eniently, right next to 2.
The number 1 is unsurprisingly associated with leadership and natural authority. Something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately as I’ve reflected on my capricorn rising sign over the last few years.
If you are here to achieve (Capricorn), to climb every mountain (or even just one big one), if you are here to accomplish, plan, live with purpose regardless of the emotional cost, then you might just run like crazy to the opposite sign (Cancer) and choose safety and isolation. You might gravitate more towards your home and your feelings may dictate your actions. You might try to take care of everyone in ‘base camp’ instead of hike towards the summit.
The growth point for a Capricorn rising is to breathe in your own authority, to KNOW that you have what it takes to climb. It is to be responsible, determined and purposeful even in the face of fear and the desire to stay safe.
This time last year, I would have been very deeply concerned with what you’re thinking about me right now, as you read these words. I may have wondered, “Oh God, do they think that astrology and numerology are made up? Will they take me less seriously? Will they make fun of me?”
Maybe you will. Maybe you won’t.
But what other people think of me is truly none of my business. And also, I’m not a mind reader - so I’ll never know!
I’ve been searching for an old journal of mine for weeks, to reflect on my early-mid 20s self a bit as I enter the end of this decade.
It’s been interesting getting reacquainted with my past selves. They are passionate and possess a surprising amount of certainty and inner strength that wasn’t quite manifesting externally yet.
I used to be VERY different. And yet some things about me are still true.
My past selves were able to reach through the fog to my future self and discern certain truths about my life. I literally texted my coach a passage from my journal that is almost verbatim what I said to her a few weeks ago about embracing my sensitivity as my superpower.
I’m not ready to look too far ahead yet, to see what the next versions of myself wants to say to me. I want to be really present at the end of this decade, and enjoy being 29.
I want to look back at all I’ve done, and all I’ve learned. All I’ve dreamed of.
I want to have the self-compassion and grace, and humor, to look back at my mistakes without being too critical. If I tried to untangle or correct my past self too much - I simply wouldn’t be me.
And to my surprise, I’ve grown to really like myself.
I think the best birthday gift of all has been my own compassion and self-respect. It’s a gift I never want to stop giving myself.
(But I also like literal gifts, so I’m getting myself a new candle later this week, and I also received some very special friendship bracelets over the weekend. Thank you to my wonderful friend, Maria Paz!)
In my early 20s, a friend took me to an aura photography shop on halloween. It sounds like exactly the kind of thing I would be into, but I wasn’t into it; it just wasn’t my vibe.
But I was a huge people pleaser back then, so I didn’t say anything. I hid my disappointment and nodded politely at the woman who read my aura for me, while inwardly balking at the price. I thanked my friend profusely for inviting me along.
Surprisingly, I put that aura photo on my fridge and kept it there for years. I can’t tell you why; I really don’t have an explanation for you or myself.
Friends would ask me about it now and then, but the significance never changed for me. It was pretty, and I’m not denying that it has meaning. At the time, I just didn’t feel connected to the photo, the day it was taken, or the experience of having my aura read. Therefore, the photo had no meaning to me beyond being a unique conversation starter in my kitchen.
I remember there being a lot of pink in the polaroid photo, which does make sense for me. The connection starts and ends there.
I only somewhat recently took that photo down, to make room for my growing collection of save the dates, wedding invitations, thank you cards, etc. I also have a great magnet collection (my front door is thankfully magnetic too, so I have two places to display my collection.)
This week, on my birthday eve eve* I put a new Polaroid on the fridge, pictured below. It was taken at the puppysphere, which is absolutely one of the happiest places on earth. I would go every day if I could.
*yes, I just said birthday eve eve. If you have issues with this, take it up with Phoebe Buffay or Eloise (you’ll find her at the plaza.)
Puppy yoga might ironically fall in the same category as aura photography - when it comes to trendy New York outings. But my experience with this polaroid was completely different than the first.
The Alexa in the puppy polaroid is completely different from the Alexa in the aura photograph polaroid.
To put it simply, puppy yoga was a dream. I didn’t do that much actual yoga. What, was I supposed to move when a puppy was snoozing peacefully in the middle of my mat?!
I went alone, somewhat my choice. In my early 20s, I would have painstakingly gotten a big group together and organized some kind of meal afterwards or beforehand. When making plans for my birthday this year, I realized that coordinating a group outing of any kind did not feel like a gift to myself - it felt like added stress. And so I went to puppy yoga alone, made friends with the people on the mats around me, and had an absolute blast.
One of my new friends even grabbed a mimosa for me after class because a sleeping puppy in my lap rendered me immobile. And then two of the puppy’s friends joined them, and I considered adopting them all on the spot (and also prayed that none of them would pee on me.)
My polaroid was taken on my mat, unlike the rest of the participants who posed with puppies in the designated photoshoot area. Because again, why would I move when a puppy is snuggling with me?!
I can feel the joy in that polaroid. The pure peace and happiness.
I’m not sure if early 20s Alexa would have been able to access that much joy. Some of it, perhaps. But she also would have been preoccupied with how her stomach and waist looked in her yoga pants. I have so much compassion for that version of me. All the past versions of me.
She opens up
And I'm in the Polaroid
Standing next to her
The princess and the passenger
Touching the rain and suddenly
There's waterfalls
Now every day is something more
Worth living for
Baby, you make the sun shine down
You make the sun shine down
You can paint the darkest clouds
And turn them into rainbows
You take your secret smile
The one that turns me on
Hey girl, you've been what I've waited for
On a day like this when the world
Is elevated
On a day like this when I know just
Why I waited
On a day like this when the world
Is elevated
On a day like this when I know just
Why I waited
Baby, you make the sun shine down
You make the sun shine down
You can paint the darkest clouds
And turn them into rainbows
You take your secret smile
The one that turns me on
Hey girl, you've been what I've waited for.
I am absolutely the one I’ve waited for. This messy, glorious, authentic version of me. And all the selves to come.
As Elsa’s mom says in Frozen, “You are the one you’ve been waiting for all of your life.”
One last quote?
There’s a Martha Beck quote that goes “Peace is your home. Integrity is the way to it. And everything you long for will meet you there.”
In a conversation with Oprah or Glennon Doyle, Martha talks about that home as an actual physical place. I remember her painting the image of everything you’ve ever wanted literally being at home waiting for you, like packages that you thought got lost when they were actually just at a different address than you thought.
I’ve always imagined that home as a lighthouse.
I wrote this last year, in an essay about longing where I also quote the same Martha Beck quote. (We’re currently reading The Way of Integrity in my book club - I’m clearly a fan!)
To me, peace is a lighthouse with golden wood floors and cozy freedom. I feel like I can find that lighthouse if I just keep walking. If I can just get far enough down the beach, and withstand the demanding waves lapping at my feet and the harsh judgemental sun scorching my sore ankles.
But what if I stop? What if I sit? What if there’s another way to reach the lighthouse? What if there’s another way to approach my longing?
What if there’s a different song to be heard in the waves, if I try a different rhythm?
What if that thing I’ve been longing for is more within reach than I ever thought possible? What if the lighthouse is closer than I think?
If you had read this quote to me while I was sitting on my mat with the puppies, I probably would have said something like, “oh maybe I’m the lighthouse! Maybe we’re at the lighthouse now! Maybe it’s something we create each day!”
But I’m not feeling quite as zen as I was during puppy yoga, so I’m less inclined to say or believe that right now. And also, I really do want to live in a lighthouse one day for a period of time. Or at least spend the night nearby.
What I will say is this - the older I get, the less convinced I am that there’s a single destination.
And in my season of grief, the idea of a single destination possesses a certain finality. I’m not sure that the peace I’m craving at that lighthouse will ever be achieved until I arrive at the end of the beach.
And as I sit here typing, on the precipice of a very meaningful birthday, climbing towards a new decade, I hope there is a lot of beach left to explore before I get to that lighthouse.
This metaphor kind of took us everywhere, didn’t it? I thought I would wrap this essay up when we got to the Rascal Flatts lyric, but then my thoughts just kept unraveling.
Happy Birthday to all my fellow Pisces. An extra special happy birthday if today is your birthday too.
And of course, happy birthday to me. All of me. The girl in the Polaroid. And all of the versions of her to come.
PS Here’s one last song that I couldn’t not include!
Contrary to the title, Jonathan’s character is actually 29 while singing this song, as he freaks out about his looming 30th birthday. Tick, Tick, Boom! is a semi-autographical musical that takes place the year before Jon’s 30th birthday as he doubts his career choices. It is simply magical and takes on a whole new meaning - given Jonathan’s death ten days before his 36th birthday, and one day before the off-Broadway opening of RENT. Ironically, I just saw a performer who won the Jonathan Larson Grant, this past weekend!
Listen to 30/90 above, and check out a song I wrote in honor of Jonathan after watching Tick, Tick, Boom! below. Jonathan’s birthday was just a few weeks ago, during the weekend I attended two memorials and exactly a week before one of my best friend’s birthdays.
Thinking of Jonathan’s family, and constantly grateful for the neverending gifts that Jonathan gave us.
Happy birthday! 🥳