Some of the years since have been absolute joy and some have been so very difficult. But mostly they have been a mix of pain, and love, and struggle, and meh, and fun, and everything in between. And this year, like every year, I celebrate that I made it. I am here and I defiantly push on. I hope that I've learned something. I'm grateful to everyone who has taught me to stop and listen. Recently, I'm trying to learn to be kinder to myself. Maybe even as kind to myself as I am to others.
I remember turning 30 in the California desert. And being so excited. I had made it. And then 40. Again I was excited. People kept telling me that the excitement of getting older, the joy of gaining experience would fade as the years marched on. But it hasn't. Here I am on the cusp of 50, and I still think 'Yes! I am still here!' Life continues to be hard, but there continues to be joy. And I am still here. There is celebration in that. The joy to me is in knowing that the alternative is in not knowing how things will turn out, in not knowing what's next. I guess, I remain curious about tomorrow.
I also remember people always telling me that as I got older this feeling would go away - that as I got older I would be less excited about my next birthday. I believed them. I mean, they were older than me, they must hold some secret knowledge. Well guess what. They were wrong. I know myself.
As far as I'm concerned, aging is a badge of courage.
We get older and hopefully wiser (I so hope I am getting wiser). I love to celebrate my birthday, and everyone else's birthdays too. I think we have every right to celebrate that we've made it another year. We are still here, we're still trying. And we get to keep going.
So, Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday to everyone else who shares January 3rd as their birthday, and Happy Birthday whenever you get to mark your anniversary around the sun.
|not my cake - this was my son's ocean themed cake from last year|