How do you celebrate a birth-day?

I remember fourteen years ago today.  It was a Sunday.  I was enormously pregnant.  I woke up on this day, ready to go in and preach (some of you know that I am a minister), when I felt it – those familiar pulsations that signal birth.  It started off as an easy rhythm, I could breathe into it, and, being the conscientious Norwegian-type that I am, I figured I would just go to church, keep the sermon brief and to the point, and then head for the hospital.  I roamed around the house, the labor pains becoming progressively more intense, stopping now and then to do a bit of yoga, saying to myself “Yeah, I think I’m going to be okay . . .” Meanwhile, my sensible engineer-type husband Jonathan quietly called a back up.  Later on, in his own defense, he said “Let’s face it . . . no one coming to church on a Sunday is really up for going through all of that with you.  A little too much sharing.”

A day of labor leading to birth is a day of living in “spanda,” or the pulsation of the universe.  One’s entire being is filled with it.  You can’t get away from it.  All you can do is breathe in, breathe out, be present to the waves, and know that it is the rhythm of all life.  On the day of birth, you have the peculiar privilege and the challenge of having all that universal spanda concentrated time within your body.  You are full to the point of over flowing with a pulse that connects you infinitely beyond yourself.

Much later (about 12 hours later), my beautiful son, Zakary Jacob Bliss (Jake), was born into this world.  A beating heart became a first inhalation, which pulsed into a first cry of exhalation, then a beautiful body, a new light in our family and our world.  Today I breathe out, breathe in, and celebrate!  Happy birthday, my beloved boy!

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