Man, I always love Facebook on my birthday. So far today, a ridiculous 400* posts on my page, not counting the private messages and comments. It’s so awesome to just allow that to wash over me. Thank you, everyone.
Personal friends from all along the road…
The good and wonderful folks at Northaven…
Minister friends…
Musicians friends…
Justice-seekers…
Political friends…
And all those wonderful folks I’ve met just from writing this blog and being on Facebook.
You need to know just how much I know that I a blessed, blessed guy. Way beyond anything I could deserve.
So, as I’ve made clear both here and on Facebook, I am allowing the calendar to have its way with me. In this season of life, staring fifty in the face, I’m refusing to look away. Not gonna blink.
And, again, not because I am a glutton for punishment. But more because it’s just here. It just is. It’s this big marker, this big moment, and it seems to me we (I) humans hurry through way too many big moments.
I still agree with what I said here. “Fifty sucks.”
But, look, I can also be realistic. If it’s inevitable, then why not listen to what it’s telling me, right?
So, that’s what I’m trying to do.
The first step? Looking back.
Today, I pulled a large, heavy old trunk out of the garage, picked the lock, and found my journals. The really old ones. The newer years were here in the house, packed in the drawers of my writing desk. But I went waaay back, to the first time I apparently ever journalled.
Then, I placed all the books in order by year on the floor, just to see what the years looked like.
Here they are…
“Every so often I read a book about age, and whoever’s writing it says it’s great to be old. It’s great to be wise and sage and mellow: it’s great to be at the point where you understand just what matters in life. I can’t stand people who say things like this.”
And I love that. But, then I follow it with the anonymous:
“Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.”
Given Norah Ephron’s death this year, it does make you pause.And make you grateful.
I think my favorite two quotes basically say the same things, but from differing spiritual perspectives. I closed with them on purpose, and I repost them there:
“Except ye become as little children, except you can wake on your fiftieth birthday with the same forward-looking excitement and interest in life that you enjoyed when you were five, “ye cannot enter the kingdom of God.” One must not only die daily, but every day we must be born again.”
— Dorothy L. Sayers
“He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.”
–Gabriel García Márquez