As the tally of years adds up, more is known. For some internal human reason, we typically pause on the birth day to celebrate that day and person who is important to us. It isn’t really the day that matters so much; it is the reflection. The measure of a life is not a function of chalk marks on the wall or calendar pages turned. It is instead pausing to gauge what’s been done with those years and consider what comes next.
There are a variety of birth days I keep track of and make an effort to recognize. It’s a way to appreciate the value and importance of those I’m fortunate to have in my life’s orbit. Of those, the birth days that mark the lives of my two sons are the ones that hold the very deepest meaning for me. In fact, those are two of the three best days of my life; I’ll let you imagine the third.
If this all sounds a bit reflective, I suppose that’s true. I think a lot these days about the things that matter most and worry far less about the things that won’t in 50 years, much less 50 weeks. It’s a winding journey, one marked by birth days along the way.
A birth day is partly a celebration of the beginning, but even more a mile marker that offers a fleeting moment to acknowledge progress to date. Most importantly, it’s an opportunity to purposefully “reset” and “refocus” on the potential for what is yet to be. Every birth day is a gift and a priceless treasure, but not a guarantee.