It’s My Birthday, And I Feel All the Feelings.

Yes, I am very grateful. And I also feel sadness with tears. All at the same time.

It’s April 14th. I turned 71 today. 71. Where did all the years go?

I feel alone, somehow. 

But it is not an aloneness that wants anyone else around right now. It is deeper than that. It is aloneness that defies adequate description. It is an ache. An ache that demands its time, demands to be heard and paid attention to. Not to be fixed, but rather to be fully acknowledged. So here I am.

Well-meaning friends ask me to remember all that I have to be grateful for. I am very aware of all of it. And I am very grateful. Very.

I also have pain inside at times. It’s ok. I can have both. 

And right now, I need to pay attention to the ache inside me. 

This ache is an ache of life going by swiftly. An ache of the sweetness of each moment and the growing awareness of the time when my moments will end. An ache for those that have passed away that I miss, human and non-human. An ache for lovers in my past, chances that I may have missed. Joy felt that I may not have appreciated enough at the time. An ache for the joy that I took for granted of looking forward to the future …the future that stood out ahead of me on a long path. Not such a long path these days. 

Sadness at how brief this time on earth is. Achingly beautiful. To feel it is to feel the awe and indescribable beauty that can pierce your soul. Looking up at the giant redwoods. Feeling them inside me. Looking at the creatures of the earth, making eye contact and feeling the precious connection. The belongingness. The connection that can happen with deep eye contact, even with total strangers passing by on the street. 

And so these tears come. Tears that sometimes have no explanation or reason. But they exist, and that is reason enough to acknowledge them and give them respect. They are part of the gift of being human, after all.

I enjoy the youth around me. Their excitement for life. Their enthusiasm. Their passion.

 I enjoy the new babies that are born. For me, they are hope for the future. A future that I will no longer be part of at some point.

I sit with younger friends and feel how they relate to me as an elder, as they search for the best way to try and connect with me, as if I come from a different country, or even a different planet. It’s interesting, and strange. I don’t remember exactly when I crossed the threshold to this land, but here I am. 

I sometimes must stop myself from giving advice to these younger beings. When asked, I will offer what I feel and think. But I also know that each of us must reach our own awareness and in our own time. 

I walk in the forest and feel myself to be among the ancestors. Those younger than I jog past me as I slowly saunter. I savor each step in this sacred place more these days. I stop and look more. See more. Hear more. Feel more. Soak it in more. Wanting to absorb it inside my soul so that I have that with me when my time comes. So that I have that with me whenever I need to remember what this feels like. So that I have that within me to feel connected. To feel touched and gently held. To feel less alone. 

What a journey this life is. A life that we figure out as we go along. Sometimes with pain, sometimes with laughter. Sometimes with loud excitement. Sometimes with quiet solitude. 

It’s my birthday. I can celebrate and be happy for the chance to have been born and be part of this life. I can acknowledge the bittersweetness at how long I sometimes feel that it has taken me to truly come alive and be more my authentic self. These lessons have taken time for me. Some of them have taken longer than others, especially those that I may have resisted for various reasons. 

And with all of that, I am so lucky to be alive, to still be here to breathe this all in. The bitter and the sweet. The joy and the tears. There is time enough to not feel any of it when we are gone. For now, I will feel it all and be grateful. I am still here for this birthday, and I feel so very blessed.