I have always loved my birthday. That may sound selfish or a bit pretentious but it is not. It's not about the presents, although I have some very thoughtful people who buy/do wonderful things for me. It is not about a big party, I'd really rather not make a big to-do about it. Please, no birthday serenade for me. It is not about the cake. . .ok. . .maybe it's a LITTLE about the cake. It is, for this deep-dwelling introvert, a time to be grateful, a time for reflection, introspection, resetting, planning, plotting, dreaming.
This birthday marks what will be the last year of my 40s. How did I get here so fast? Where did the years slip away to? Thinking about how time has flown makes me want to 'carpe diem' even more. I want to REALLY make certain that each day, I am not only living to my highest potential, but enjoying being fully alive and invested in each day, month, season of this wild ride we have all been thrust upon before its. . .over.
At 49 you have lived enough to know that the world is at once a magnificent and outstandingly cruel place.
You have had your heart torn to shreds and probably done the same to a few yourself.
You've realized that love sneaks in when you least expect it and when it's right you don't have to beg it to stay.
You realize that no matter how awful the night, that the sun will come up in the morning, and one of the most amazing things in the world is watching it do so.
You have lost. . . perhaps possessions, parents or grand parents, pregnancies, pets, jobs, hopes, dreams, possibly even a child. In each of these you have found and gained strength.
At 49 you realize that time, while it may not be directly against you, is no longer in your corner.
At 49 you've realized that false friends and true enemies are a part of life, and you cull your circle accordingly.
You open the door and set forth, more decisive in you path, more ruthless in what you slow down for. But you do stop to smell the proverbial flowers now.
You let go the dreams that no longer serve a purpose, no longer fit the vision of what you seek to become and, although you probably now need glasses, you gain focus on those that do serve you.
At 49 you realize, with a wry smile, that nothing and everything matters all at once. You realize that 'it's just life' and 'this is your life' are both applicable.
At 49 you are wise enough to know it is ok to have regrets, and try to minimize the opportunity for them to occur in the future.
At 49 you occasionally remember that you forgot to care what others think of you.
At 49 you realize that this IS your life and it is YOURS to make amazing. Time's a wasting.
. . .