Save the date: on celebrating things

Last Sunday’s column marked the one-year anniversary of Head Space. And yes, I too am more than a little surprised I lasted this long. But the anniversary column of choice was not my best idea. It was fairly depressing. I can do better, I said to no one in particular.

I’ve been wondering why this matters so much. Because, even though it was submitted in the usual way – hit “send” – no fanfare, no cake, I kept thinking about it.

Our lives are parenthesised by markers like anniversaries, birthdays and holidays. Many of us live our work-a-day lives in between, without specialness, without celebration. And then, arbitrarily, someone at work decides to retire, and all of a sudden we have to think of something meaningful to write in a card, and yes, now we get cake.

We’ve been doing this forever – celebrating, observing, saying “Yes, we see you,” to some event we deem significant. Change of season and things to do with agriculture used to be important enough to get dressed up for, but the bucolic festivities have gone out of fashion in many places.

Somehow, even though they happen every day, christenings, weddings and funerals are still popular. Birth, marriage and death. One is inevitable and some of us question the wisdom of encouraging the other two.

Do we have our priorities wrong when it comes to what we consider most important to celebrate? Or, let’s say the christening-wedding-funeral trinity is still legit, I feel there has to be more. And what if – shock of shocks – something turns out to be even more important?

We’re putting religious celebrations in a box, taping the box and labelling it “FRAGILE”. I’m comically clumsy. You don’t want me holding the box with the breakables. National holidays based on history or being a country will go into a similar box for exactly the same reason.

You’ll be wanting to know what that leaves. Plenty. Everything. So much.

Funerals are a big deal and we have (by which I mean I have) already agreed to keep them. But how much more wonderful would it be if we truly celebrated when someone got well? I bet when migraine sufferers come to an end of one of their episodes, they must feel positively festive. And relieved.

Or consider terrible accidents. The kind when you know it definitely is not the person’s time to die, and lo, they do survive. I feel very celebratory about survival. Any kind of survival, pick your… something non-poisonous.

If we think birth – life’s first chance – is worth a party, how much more extraordinary is a second chance?

We can celebrate a million things on our own, without anyone else’s input. When we choose to include others, we are acknowledging ourselves as part of a community and our place in it. The shared experience that marks the moment, marks us as well. It may not be tribal scarification or a Maori tattoo, but it’s no less significant

Because it becomes a memory. And I don’t care how permanent scars and tattoos are, some memories will be our friends when we lay dying.

Every year is new at some point. So I don’t get why bringing it in with a loud noise is a big deal. If the clock strikes twelve and no one hears it, is it not a new year? Did we miss it and have to go on with the old year?

This is not an anti-party tirade. It’s a small stroll of wondering about adherence to familiar celebrations but never stopping to think about what we might be failing to give a little love to.

We should celebrate the fact that we made it through the year without getting into vehicular accidents or succumbing to road rage. We should throw the best party ever for schools that successfully implement no-bullying rules. Get the balloons ready for everyone who takes care of their aging relatives.

Some will say this is just more of that “celebrate every moment” spiel you hear from motivational speakers. It’s not. What you’ve been reading is what I, personally, think is worth noticing in a meaningful way.

But I know there are things in all our lives that feel way more important than, say, Boxing Day. And yet we put all our love and planning into the-things-that-have-always-been, and we don’t make nearly enough of what really matters to us.

Traditions are great, they are. But some things are bigger, deeper. We need to make time for them. Maybe get a cake.

Remember to talk to your doctor or therapist if you want to know more about what you read here. In many cases, there’s no single solution or diagnosis to a mental health concern. Many people suffer from more than one condition.