Happy birthday to me! I guess? I was never big on my own birthday. There might have been a year or two somewhere when I completely forgot it was coming. This isn’t really a milestone birthday or anything, but it is the first one to make me sad. Because I’m in that official “middle age” bracket.” Because it is the first without my Mama. Because I might be the least accomplished person I know. Because I was supposed to do XY and Z by now, but have not.
Because when I was young, I made the mistake of listening to people tell me I was young and unaware. That I needed life experiences to have insight, that I needed to know more. Beause now I am in that middle space where I am supposed to be invisible and content. I am not yet wise but I know too much to be innocent.
Because I have spent so much time holding back, trying to plan and know more. Because very often I planned planned planned only to let the plan fall through or the moment pass.
So I’d like to resolve to make my sadness motivation. To just dive in. To not plan so much. To try. To trust that I don’t need to experience it all to have experience. To be willing to learn and grow and stay curious. To remember all flowers grow at their own pace, and so will people. To honor my Mama with every passing day. To continue to forget my age.
I’ll start by appreciating the beauty of fallen pink petals while we can (in spite of the eye-stinging pollen they emit), because they’ll be green leaves tomorrow.
I am happy young people are not listening to older people who tell them they are too young to know. We are all too young to know. Sometimes I worry that my spark is gone. I hope if it has been snuffed out, my wick isn’t so burnt out that it can’t be lit again. Although I guess if my wick is burnt out I can always be put on a candle warmer. I’m sure the wax still smells good.
