One week past another anniversary of escaping the womb. One week past another completion of solar circumnavigation. Already 11,285,000 miles past the way point. The miles fly by without the awareness of traveling. The years fly by without the awareness of aging.
But a look into any reflective surface and the evidence is there. Like a river bed beginning with a trickle of water, the etching of the land growing deeper with each rain, the body shows the storms of the years, the showers of the seasons, the freezing and thawing of the decades.
Thankful for the shreds of wisdom that accumulate along with the years. Thankful for the ability to recognize blessings in everyone and everything. Thankful for still having awe and wonder for life and love.
Another birthday? So what? They are mile posts only. They are not meant to guide the trip – only to mark how far one has come. The destination is unimportant. It is the joy of the journey that matters. Happy belated birthday to me? So it is. ©
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