Thirty-one days. When was the last time you spent thirty-one anything on yourself? I'm spending 31 whole days on me.
Welcome to DashaFEST.
I was in my early twenties when I first expanded my birthday from one day to the entire month. Indulgent and absurd, yes, and yet I've been shamelessly committed to this self-celebration for almost two decades. Some years have been resplendent, some more privately powerful. All, however, have been filled with reflection, adventure, assessment and rejoicing.
This year, DashaFEST falls during a time when I've made a conscious decision to match the passion of my work with a renewed enthusiasm for the amazing humans surrounding me. Operation: Social Life, I call it. We don't often recognize our habits of existing until they bear the rigid grooves of a rut.
I've been carving out such a rut for myself for quite a few years, I suppose. It hasn't felt like one because the nature of my work is social and I am so wholly fueled by the opportunity to do it. Still, there's something to be said for "playing hard." I used to know how to do that. Before the meeting agendas, and bedtime stories, and cameo appearances, and strategic planning meetings, the Girl Scout cookie sales, and airport terminals, I knew how to play hard for no reason. I proved it to myself every year during the month of October.
So, I'm excited about DashaFEST this year. Yes, for the events and challenges I've scheduled for myself, but, mostly, for this revived fervor to enjoy ME and the life that has stitched itself around my shoulders. I am blessed. Life is bountiful. Let the rejoicing begin.