I had a birthday the other day and I was struck by the fact that my birthday still held such a significance for me. It was both a testament to the fact that I do have incredibly lovely friends (who throw incredibly lovely dinner parties) and a reminder to me that I have not achieved, I have not yet become the person that I would like to be. And yet the clock ticks on obstinately.
I am infamous amongst my friends for being particularly sensitive about my birthday. Pretty much since I turned 20 years old, I have held myself in contempt of ME – for not having transformed over the last year into a miraculous new fantastic (sort of superhero ) version of me. One who is more attractive, who is less moody, less needy and who pretty much has figured everything out – career, money, relationships… or at least how to keep my closet organized..
And yet, there I am. Every year, I stand face to face with just plain old me. And older and still not completely together me. It is always a little bit of a shock but then again, not really. I always kinda knew I’d find myself looking back in the looking glass…
Ironically, I write about how to approach happiness and to be at peace and then on my birthday, I break down because I don’t yet have a walk in closet. It’s funny, I know. A little sad but profoundly funny. Being human is an imperfect business. And I am not yet a Bodhisattva. I do not foresee me vibrating off the planet, in the very near future.
And so here I am – a non vibrating, non Buddha, non walk in closet owner who is older than she ever thought she’d be without at least a an Oscar or a Pulitzer (or at least a fantastic writeup in the New York Times). And then I think about my lovely friends who threw me very lovely parties this weekend and who made me laugh and feel incredibly loved and cherished. And I think, eh, I’m not doing too bad. 😉