Dear Diary memoirs

28 Years Later;

Twenty eight years today, and the ride becomes softer because there is no other way to live.

Another year has graced me, and I cannot stop smiling on this warm 14th of October. Ive experienced this day 28 years in a row now, and for some reason being here today feels like a new experience.

Ive been writing these birthday posts for 6 years, and weird enough I do not cringe when I read them {22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27}. Perhaps it is watching yourself become someone you now know, but had no idea you were becoming as it happened. So much has happened, but when has it ever not, and I’ve grown but when has that stopped either?

A part of me wants to make lists of my achievements and my failures, and put in front of me plans for later; maybe even goals for the next 5 to 10 years; but a different part of me doesn’t care at all, and that’s the person I like, that’s the person who I’d been working on for a while. This is the person who wants to just be here right now, watching my cats sleep through noon, and sit beside a few lit candles and some incense. This is the person who grew out of countless insecurities and crawled anew out of self sabotaging fires and crippling anxieties. This person is here now and i cannot be happier. This person doesn’t want to buy anything special or take memorable pictures in fear of losing the attention received on this day. This person is basking in it all and feeling absolutely grateful to be here, along with so much love and acceptance.

Twenty eight years today, and the ride becomes softer because there is no other way to live. Maybe in not resisting it all we can learn to open our hearts to the adventures we need but not necessarily want. Maybe there is something waiting to be uncovered in the pits of our stomachs, something weightless and boundless; a sense of liberty from stories we cannot stop telling ourselves and one another.

Perhaps when the lines on our faces become deeper, we get wiser in retrospect. Life then feels laid out in front of us, and the stories all combine into one overarching narrative; a moral then presents itself to us in all of its triumph and tragedy. Except, time doesn’t have to work that way, time is not married to waste. So, what if we can take that wisdom we are bound to get to from others, and live by its virtues today? What if we really listen to the people who have been here longer than us, people we appreciate and look up to, people we consider mentors and teachers. Would we still live the same way and be the same people if we listened intently, reflected and acted upon it?

I write this piece today, and I catch myself wondering if it is at all relatable to you my dear reader. Then again, must our experiences be all the same?

Absolutely not, and that is the entire point.

Finally, and most importantly Eat some cake; Live a little!

One reply on “28 Years Later;”

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