A Reflection on Growing Older
I just played "Happy Birthday" on my bass. It took me four tries to figure out the notes. I must be aging too quickly.
Birthdays are an odd time - it's the only day of the year where you have to focus on you, every failure, every accomplishment ... it's where you look in the mirror and say (if you're young) "I'm only such and such an age, it's OK that I haven't done this and this and that - it could happen in the future" or (if you're older) "what happened to all of those years - what happened to me?" It's where you reflect on your individual path through the wilderness of your interests ... from the random chance encounter in seventh grade, to the heartbreak as a senior in high school, to all of the things you wish you were, or liked, or tried, or knew. It's when you realize how little you know, and how much you want to share ... and connect.
It's where you look at the pictures on facebook, and you look at other peoples pictures, and you think, for a second, maybe you can photoshop your head on their body. And maybe if you will yourself hard enough, or regret loud enough, you will force yourself to have experiences that you never even knew you wanted.
Because with experiences comes more experiences, and eventually, after piling those experiences on top of each other, a person is made ... a person that people judge, and interpret, and like, and hate, and fear, and expect ... a person that people know ...
Birthdays are a chance to remind yourself of how intangible you are - how one fluctuation in even the smallest particle would cause you to even think about another year in a different manner.
Even now, I'm thinking about who I am, what I like, how I think, what I know ... and I realize how ephemeral the identity. I stared in the mirror for five minutes to see if I could recognize myself. I gave up.
Birthdays are an odd time - it's the only day of the year where you have to focus on you, every failure, every accomplishment ... it's where you look in the mirror and say (if you're young) "I'm only such and such an age, it's OK that I haven't done this and this and that - it could happen in the future" or (if you're older) "what happened to all of those years - what happened to me?" It's where you reflect on your individual path through the wilderness of your interests ... from the random chance encounter in seventh grade, to the heartbreak as a senior in high school, to all of the things you wish you were, or liked, or tried, or knew. It's when you realize how little you know, and how much you want to share ... and connect.
It's where you look at the pictures on facebook, and you look at other peoples pictures, and you think, for a second, maybe you can photoshop your head on their body. And maybe if you will yourself hard enough, or regret loud enough, you will force yourself to have experiences that you never even knew you wanted.
Because with experiences comes more experiences, and eventually, after piling those experiences on top of each other, a person is made ... a person that people judge, and interpret, and like, and hate, and fear, and expect ... a person that people know ...
Birthdays are a chance to remind yourself of how intangible you are - how one fluctuation in even the smallest particle would cause you to even think about another year in a different manner.
Even now, I'm thinking about who I am, what I like, how I think, what I know ... and I realize how ephemeral the identity. I stared in the mirror for five minutes to see if I could recognize myself. I gave up.