In most people's lives birthdays eventually lose their luster. That turn of the calendar page isn't marking exciting milestones as much as it's a reminder of how old you're getting.
I've semi-scoffed at the idea of a quarter life crisis. 13, 16, 18, 21 ... all spiffy.
So it came as a shock when 25 hit me hard. A quarter century.
Life lesson: never say never. Don't think it won't happen to you. Cause it will.
Karma? Power of Thought? Whatever it is, it gets me every time.
So, last year's birthday marked no other milestone than just how long I've been here. But it seemed the trigger point for a lot of things that were bubbling up to spill over: work, relationships, family issues, goals, friendship questions. You name it, it was percolating.
Suddenly these unresolved issues were all I saw in the candles, gifts and cards. Where previously they would be symbols of celebration, now they were all mocking me.
With perspective, this crisis was more so a panic, like the feeling you get when you're running late and you can't find your keys. They aren't where you always put them and they also aren't in the next six logical places. So you're five minutes late with no keys in sight. You can't even find your spare set.
I wish I could tell you I examined each thing causing me panic and worked my way through them. I resolved one or two issues, and found two or three more. Generally have few solutions and more insecurities. Ah life.
