As we get older, it’s normal to bemoan our birthdays, to joke about celebrating our 30th birthday for the twentieth time, or to believe that we are one step and one year closer to the inevitable.
But birthdays are a privilege.
They are a celebration of another trip around the sun that may have included some challenges, disappointments and pain, but those 365 days probably also contained joy, contentment, plenty of victories and moments full of meaning.
Did you notice those moments?
Did you breathe them in and fully appreciate those gifts for as long and as deeply as we tend to experience, pain, grief, frustration or sorrow?
Or did those moments vanish quickly as you retreated to your phone, your to-do list or your list of grievances that sometimes feel more familiar than celebrations?
We all mark milestone birthdays – when we turn 40 or 50 or 60 and then because time might be limited, we mark three quarters of a century.
But after cancer, every birthday is a milestone birthday – a chance to reflect on the past, to design the life you want to live for the next year, to think carefully about who and what has earned your time and attention.
We all know that when we reach a certain age, we don’t need gifts anymore. Having spent another year on earth is a gift itself, whether or not we are unknowingly about to blow out the last candle.
A colleague this week, when I asked him how he was doing in the middle of a busy day, replied somewhat sarcastically, “Oh, I’m living the dream.”
I have days like that, too. But too many of those days, become weeks, years, decades and lifetimes.
As I start another year on earth, I know that I am actually living the dream, because I’m alive, I’m cancer-free, I’ve got people who love me unconditionally, a job that matters and a focused sense of purpose.
I’m grateful for that and want the same for you.
Thank you for celebrating with me.