It’s the eve of my birthday and that, for me, is always a time of reflection. Where am I now, where was I then… that sort of thing. It’s amazing to chronicle the turning of the years in this way. I can’t remember many of the birthday parties, heck I can’t even remember some of the birthday years, but I maintain a general idea of where I was when.
When I was 18 I thought I’d be a missionary. I spent my 21st birthday at Nectar’s bar in Burlington, soon after moving to the city. By 25 I was living the high life in Dallas and one month after my 30th birthday soiree I was in rehab. My 31st birthday I spent with my loving horde of nieces and nephewsand last year… well, I don’t really remember last year very well, but I’m sure it was fun.
I wonder what my 34th year will bring. I wonder if I will be more at peace, more settled? I wonder if I’ll stop changing all the time and enjoy a little consistency. I wonder if consistency is enjoyable. I wonder if I’ll make peace with my faith, maybe even figure out what it is. I wonder if I’ll still be a writer this time next year. I wonder if I’ll still be happy.
As the final hours of my 33rd year pass I look at my life and know that I am happy, that I am content. It is not where I thought I would be, it is not what I thought to be right, but it is my joy. I am sober. I am in love. I am moving in with the man I love. I am striving to find balance and very often succeeding. My world is racing toward wellness. My faith is rushing toward wholeness. I am blessed and fortunate and very aware of both. I am ready for 34.
Here’s to a year prosperous in love, faith, and success in all it’s truest forms – for all of us.