Last month, I celebrated a milestone. I am 70 years old. But, I don’t feel a day older.
Birthdays mark the date on the calendar when we note another year in life has passed. We inexorably drift towards that final calendar date when we no longer age. The date when we meet our maker.
In the meantime, it’s not the birthdays that matter, but what happens between them. The days that pass by contain events that should hold our attention in the future as we look back. If not, they are just part of the misty legends of the past.
What memorable events are you storing up for old-age reflection? Are they mindless entertainment, or meaningful occupation? Would you write about them in a memoir? Would you be proud to share them with friends, or should you hide them away, never to be known?
Our lives are made up of our memories. Our memories are made from the events we participate in. Our lives are these events.
Don’t look back a year from now and wonder what happened. Look back in awe that you did such wonderful things.