When a baby is conceived, we celebrate.
When she is born, we celebrate
and throw a bash for her ten fingers and toes.

We celebrate and delight
when she takes her first step
and says her first word.

Proud teary eyes,
display her scribbles,
and all the unrecognizable figurines she creates.

But as she ripens and emerges
with the fullness of womanhood
the scarcity of Celebration begins.

She starts to believe
Celebration is reserved
for firsts,
for milestones and
is a gift that must be given.

So she celebrates,
her birthday {given by her mother};
her graduation {given by an institution};
her engagement {given by her lover};
her awards {given by an academy};
her corner office {given by a company}.

When every Celebration ends
and she is left alone,
she busies herself
to avoid the pangs of unspoken sadness,
while she waits, and waits, and waits,
for Celebration to make her grand entrance.

She recalls her childhood when
the sweetness of Celebration clung to her
like cotton candy on sticky little fingers.  

Now Celebration’s
sacred whisper
seduces her
to break her silent compromise
with the hierarchical sacrifice of Celebration.

She is being called to remember
that when she celebrates
every moment
she becomes the allure for more.
More joy,
more happiness,
complete ecstasy.

As she enters this threshold,
her heart’s love letter
soothes sorrow’s wounds
and she is baptized in the
holy waters of Celebration.

Here she gulps its sweet nectar
and becomes 
the Chalice of Celebration.

—An Ode for Celebration for {you}, inspired by my beautiful sister-client who confessed she didn’t feel she had anything to celebrate when I asked her, “What do you want to celebrate?” during our coaching call.