Sunrise at the casita.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I was actually born on a Tuesday too. And this is my 39th birthday, kind of momentous chronologically, since it is the last year I will spend in my 30′s.
Like most people, I spend time reflecting and looking forward when my birthday comes. I like that my birthday is the first day of the last month of the year. Not only is the chronology tidy, but there is an added symbolism for me to personally transition into my new year during the last month and then fully embrace it when The New Year arrives in January. I like benchmarks, and milestones, and milemarkers, however, I get easily transfixed by them and then find myself giving them more meaning than just an acknowledgment of their mere existence. On a road trip for instance, I have to be very careful to look away from the milemarkers or exit numbers, because I will start to anticipate them and do crude calculations about the time and distance traveled and how much farther there is to go. It can be terrorizing. Especially in Colorado where those little buggers are relentless. Now apply the metaphor to the daily slog of life and you can relate to my incessant inner voices.
I felt a little blue tonight, maybe left over from yesterday and definitely feeling anxious about the impending holidays, so I rebelled and did not run. I should have, but found some excellent excuses about being cold and not wanting to change clothes, and how I needed to make my lunch for tomorrow and then I got transfixed by “Intervention” on A&E. Lesson learned: always run.
If there is one thing I know for sure in the waning hours of being 38, is that the sun will rise, calendars will be turned, miles will pass on by, and even as much as I’d like to press fast forward from December 2nd to January 2nd, it will be Tuesday, December 1, 2009, my 39th birthday. And I like my birthday. A real lot.
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