25 Plus 1
Yesterday was my Harry Potter 25th birthday (thank you, husband, for reminding the world), and it came and went as birthdays do when you've gotten too old and busy to really celebrate them.
I remember birthdays as a child were a grand event - even for my rafting-trip-to-New-Mexico 15th birthday, I made a big damn deal about my "increasing wisdom," believing, of course, that age constitued worldly knowledge in one's pocket like an investment in life, saved, well earned by only surviving another year. I remember wanting so badly to be "old enough," to make more decisions, to carve out a future, to "make my mark."
Right. So how did all this happen?
From the lofty vantage point of ten years later, I think there must have been a moment in my life, pregnant 21st with kareokee, a time when I stopped paying attention and completely lost my focus on living nobly with honor and grace. Because being "old enough" seems to have become surviving the next catastrophe, wisdom gained, saved, invested, earned has become short-lived. My quarter century wisdom has the life span of a twinkly Snoopy birthday candle. Puff. I screw something up so viciously, note the lesson, vow to do better and then commit the same error at the next most immediate opportunity.
And now: happy birthday. Plus one day. I didn't even plan it. Barely was awake enough to acknowledge it when it came and went. Like last year. What grand trip, what grand gift did I get for myself? I survived the year - complete catastrophe by exception only - but the excitment of achievement, of lessons imparted by age got lost somewhere. Ultimate failure at 25.
Maybe in blowing out my pancake-planted candle this year, instead of making a wish for peace and happiness in my life, I should have planned for an achievement in year 26, made a resolution-like commitment to myself to wake the hell up. I should have promised, in that pause, to learn everything possible when I'm taught by life, emblazen it in my memory, and then, after promising all of that, I should have promised myself a big fucking party.
A person can promise all of that in one breath, right? If I can say goodbye to an entire year in that time, why not promise myself the next one?
Here's to next year. May I be more attentive and have a big party.
Much love to you all who remembered my birthday.
I remember birthdays as a child were a grand event - even for my rafting-trip-to-New-Mexico 15th birthday, I made a big damn deal about my "increasing wisdom," believing, of course, that age constitued worldly knowledge in one's pocket like an investment in life, saved, well earned by only surviving another year. I remember wanting so badly to be "old enough," to make more decisions, to carve out a future, to "make my mark."
Right. So how did all this happen?
From the lofty vantage point of ten years later, I think there must have been a moment in my life, pregnant 21st with kareokee, a time when I stopped paying attention and completely lost my focus on living nobly with honor and grace. Because being "old enough" seems to have become surviving the next catastrophe, wisdom gained, saved, invested, earned has become short-lived. My quarter century wisdom has the life span of a twinkly Snoopy birthday candle. Puff. I screw something up so viciously, note the lesson, vow to do better and then commit the same error at the next most immediate opportunity.
And now: happy birthday. Plus one day. I didn't even plan it. Barely was awake enough to acknowledge it when it came and went. Like last year. What grand trip, what grand gift did I get for myself? I survived the year - complete catastrophe by exception only - but the excitment of achievement, of lessons imparted by age got lost somewhere. Ultimate failure at 25.
Maybe in blowing out my pancake-planted candle this year, instead of making a wish for peace and happiness in my life, I should have planned for an achievement in year 26, made a resolution-like commitment to myself to wake the hell up. I should have promised, in that pause, to learn everything possible when I'm taught by life, emblazen it in my memory, and then, after promising all of that, I should have promised myself a big fucking party.
A person can promise all of that in one breath, right? If I can say goodbye to an entire year in that time, why not promise myself the next one?
Here's to next year. May I be more attentive and have a big party.
Much love to you all who remembered my birthday.
posted by J.Helen Shaw at 11:19 AM
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