My birthday is tomorrow. 62. Who’d have thought?
Someone once told me that anyone over the age of 9 who gets excited about their own birthday is childish…I’ll take the rap on that.
Birthdays mean one more year of life, of learning, of leaning into the wind of experience.
There’s a lot of truth to the old saying that if you don’t like getting older think of the alternative. I have a cartoon framed in my kitchen that says, “If you don’t like working out 1-hour a day maybe you’ll prefer being dead 24-hours a day.”
I wouldn’t like that, but I don’t think I’d be aware of it.
Try this: Google your birthday. You’ll see lots of things that have happened on your day and it’s a surefire “Are you serious?!” moment.
On April 12, 1962, Yuri Gagarin was the first man in space!
I have lots of good activities planned for the next 72-hours (yes, it’s never a birth DAY…it’s always a birth-WEEKEND…at least) and a friend has promised a surprise on Sunday. So, Happy Birthday to me! I can hear you singing now.
Have a great weekend! I’m planning to!
See you Monday.