It has taken me more than 30 of them, but I am starting to enjoy my birthdays.
Perhaps that is not entirely true. When I was young I do remember enjoying birthdays, so it seems there is a gulf there between the ages of 21 and 36, where I stopped living in the moment and enjoying what I had, reflecting with joy on what I had lived during the past 12 months, and looked forward with excitement to the next 12 months.
Birthdays during this period were a time of regret for me. A time or remember that I am stuck, that I don't have anything exciting to look forward to for the next 12 months. Of envying those younger than me, and thinking that I was old and had missed my chance.
Right at this moment, I love the age I am. I am grateful for what I have lived, the scars I have earned and the pain I have worked through. I don't envy those who are younger than me. I actually feel for them, the living they still need to do in order to achieve a higher level of awareness.
And I am looking forward to the next 12 months. The previous 12 months have been profoundly shaping and altering of my course. I understand for the first time how a period of time can be the best of times and the worst of times.