...unless you count that I'm sitting in one.
It's 11:37 p.m. on the 24th of June. In 23 minutes I will be 45 years old.
Gosh, that sounds like a lot.
But as gray hair, dulling skin, gravity-challenged body parts, and crows feet creep slowly, but surely, upon me...life is good.
If I looked back over my shoulder at the year gone by it would be easy to reflect with maudlin mood on the substantial hardships it held. But I can't help but put behind me the sorrows of days I cannot retrieve, and look forward instead with anticipation at the year before me. If I allow myself a backward glance it is only so I might see the mistakes I made (and there were a few) and remember not to make them again.
Because, despite tears and loss in the vapor that was the last 365 days, I have been given many blessings. And though they may not seem like much to folks who measure success with yardsticks different than my own, the small joys make me happy; in them I find peace.
The crickets are chirping their nocturnal symphony; a soft breeze stirs the bamboo; an owl is hooting in the distance; and an old dog lies contentedly at my feet.
I am 45 now, and I look forward to whatever the coming year holds.
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