So.... it's my birthday

Miscellaneous musings on milestones and aging

There’s a song by Indigo Girls called Watershed where Amy Ray sings, “Every 5 years or so I look back on my life and I have a good laugh.” I’ve loved Indigo Girls since I was twenty-four and I used to sing these lyrics with gusto. Five years was a long time when I was young. It was to all of us when we were young. Now, not so much.

A friend of mine turned 65 this week. As I understand it, he’s never paid much attention to birthdays. At least, he says he’s been immune to life milestones. But 65 is a significant threshold. He feels a shift. Vaguely having to do with confidence. More an earned right to say what he knows. Less contorting to clients and more “this is how it should be. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”  It’s easy to feel this way when we’re young. Youth is always naive. Then there are the middle years where we bend and doubt and strive. Maybe 65 is the year we say enough. When we accept that we do have enough years, experience, and wisdom to permit ourselves to not compromise so much. 

Another friend is going to be 81 in a few months and she continues to have “beginner’s mind”. She will always have beginner’s mind. She is so incredibly curious about everything. The term lifelong learner was probably invented for her. She’s done so many things and worked in a wide swath of fields. Honestly, I can’t keep up. She honors me by assuming I’m the same. I’m not. I’m in awe of her. I’ve never had the kind of energy and enthusiasm for life that she has. I measure myself against her (which is never a good thing to do) and feel like I come up short.

It occurred to me the other day that I haven’t done enough with my life. I’ve done things, yes, but not enough. The truly good things I’ve done, the things that made an impact in lives of others, were decades ago. And before you say there’s still time for me to do more, I’ll confess (hesitantly) that I’m no longer that interested. (wince) Inshallah, I still have many years ahead of me so maybe this will change. At the moment though, I don’t have the stamina. I’m tired. What I really want to do is move to Sicily.

I still feel this way. Only maybe not so loud.

Thirty-five was the birthday for me. I looked forward to 30 (the 20s are so overrated), but 35 felt monumental. I can’t even tell you what I did to celebrate but I had this feeling that 35 was the beginning of something BIG. From 35 to 50. And in fact, these years were significant. Aaannnd… now? I thought I’d be building off what I did during that period. It’s impossible not to, of course. Yet, it’s not what I thought it would be. Not what I imagined.

Does anyone get to a certain point and say, Yes, this is what I imagined?

How old were you when you finally felt like an adult, no longer playing at “adulting” but actually felt like an adult? What birthday really had an impact on you? Felt like a true milestone, a threshold to something else?

I went from curious to excited to ...? skeptical?

A dear friend shared the following poem with me and I like it so much that I purchased the Norton Anthology in which it is published. I’m undeniably of European descent and can’t claim the Native American experience. The beauty of poetry, however, is that it expresses something universal. There is so much in this piece that resonates with me.

On a lighter note, I’ll leave you with some Brian Andreas. My siblings and I have enjoyed his work since the ‘90s (each of us owning multiple prints and many of his books). I was beyond tickled to find one of his sculptures at a local thrift store two weeks ago.

someone in my family has never been a fan of birthdays but for a few years the following piece would always crack her up and get her into the spirit

from Strange Dreams: Collected Stories & Drawings, c1996, by Brian Andreas

and perhaps the one most of us can relate to:

from Trusting Soul, c2000, by Brian Andreas

So, what are YOU going to do to celebrate this weekend? Because hey, birthday or not, every day is worth celebrating. ❤️

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