Time has just handed me another birthday. Time is such paradox. Getting older is the hardest thing we must do and what we "wish" for. It's gives and takes at the same time. It heals and breaks down. We all measure time exactly the same way and yet our sense of it is relative. Time is perceived by what we use it for. The faster someone, or something, is going the more the smallest unit of measuring it matters. When it's (times) sweet we try to hold on to it, and when it's not we want to put it behind us. We look forward to then and try to remember when, yet the only real experiences happen now.
Birthdays are reminders. They remind me that life is a gift. They remind me of my loved ones and friends. They remind me to take stock and clean house. They remind me that I'm doing the hardest thing I must do, and to take time to do the things I "wish" for and appreciate the ones that I already have.
