Hello, hello, College Kid Yoga readers! I returned from a family vacation last night (stay tuned for a beach-themed post!), so I’m just now getting around to posting about the birthday celebration I threw for myself last week.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I celebrated my 22nd year by hosting a small dinner party for a few of my friends closest to my heart. I reveled in the process of searching for unique, easy, and healthy recipes, shopping for food, and slicing, dicing, and sauteing produce in a hot kitchen as suggestive, slightly offensive, but very fun lyrics blast from my laptop speakers (My “grind mix” playlist inspires me). Sure, the stress of turning on the oven several times during one of the hottest days of the summer, mentally selecting and rejecting all potential dinner party outfit ideas, and cleaning most of the house left me sweaty and wondering why I insist on celebrating my birthday in non-conventional ways. Why can’t I just shoot a mass text to my entire phone log or create a facebook invite detailing a few hours of drinking and dancing at a bar, like the normal people?
In these moments, I invoked the ancient wisdom of both my yogic predecessors and contemporaries, and closed my eyes. I scanned my body for discomfort, breathed into those places, and reminded myself that I feel much more comfortable celebrating my birthday with a small group. I reminded myself that I truly delight in preparing wholesome food for people I love. I reap deep satisfaction from the ritual of nourishing my friends, friends who I have let into my heart, with delicious food that brings them pleasure. Plus, I value giving myself the same experience, as well. I remembered that while hosting a birthday dinner party may incite within me temporary anxiety, it brings me lasting contentment, a feeling all birthday girls should have. Then, I just cranked up the Trey Songz, shook my ass, and boiled the quinoa.
My menu included:
Raw Tortilla Soup (no food porn featured for this recipe-drat my forgetfulness!)
Individual Cheesecakes (check out Lindy’s Cheesecake in Betty Crocker)
I’d say my cooking nourished my guests. Can’t you feel the love reverberating around the table?
I had a lot of fun, too. Does “love-filled and content 22-year old” sound oxymoronic? Not to me.