So. It was my birthday yesterday. A special day? It didn't feel like one. It was like every other day except for two things. People wishing me a happy birthday, which makes me feel good about the day, and then they ask me for a treat. For what? Having been born? Having grown a year more? Having come closer to losing all my hair? Reason to celebrate?
While it feels special, being a year older brings into sharper focus about what all I have not achieved yet. Brought into even sharper relief are the losses that I never gave a thought about at the time, when it seemed so easy to let go, but now feels like a part of me that can never be replaced. and then there is the feeling that I haven't done enough to leave a mark, to have realized and fulfilled my purpose. And when I think about it, I feel like a child staring at the sky, full of wonder at what's out there, hoping it's all good, fearing it'll be bad. (I guess it's normal nowadays to have multiple views on anything. Our way of life has led us all to develop dissociated identities. One for work, one for home. One for family, one for friends.)
All this might seem like I don't appreciate the effort everyone puts into making me feel special on my birthday. The truth is far from it. I'm very touched by all that. It's just that birthdays aren't as special to me as they were before.
Still, no one's going to punish me for singing 'Happy Birthday to me'. :)
Just a blog.