Happy
I turned thirty-eight years old today. I’ve been saying I feel old, but that might not be quite right. It’s probably more that I put too much stock in the vision I have of where I should be at this point in my life. Because, when I concentrate on this problem, I come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter how old I am, and that judgments over status are arbitrary and have to do with ephemeral things like fame and influence and money. The concept that there are certain milestones that should be reached by a certain year in my life are likewise meaningless. This is a difficult problem to overcome.
So, if I can remember to narrow my focus and examine the issue, really nail it to the floor and study it, I can remember that I don’t have to believe I should be somewhere in my imagined future, or somehow more than I am today. I can try to make the most of the time I have and enjoy who I am now, like a city-dwelling zen master, rather than try to will myself important. I am important enough at this point in time. The next step is just a couple feet beyond what I am, but to move forward is good.
I feel lucky to live in this country. I think I’m fortunate to possess the natural talents I have. I love my friends and their generosity of spirit, and I love my family and its desire for close ties. I love my other half, my partner in life, with all my heart. It’s my life and can be lived by no other.
