Birthday Reflections

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What is this age thing?
Numbers signifying time.
Judgments from society, from my “committee”
About the meaning of each new year?
Something to celebrate, to evaluate, to regret?

When did birthdays turn
From anticipated joy
To quiet dread?

When did I start to mark the years
With something other than gratitude?
To judge my body,
The changes in my skin,
The color of my hair,
Each new wrinkle, analyzed.

When I’m at my best, I remember
That each new year is a gift.
Each new day is a time to celebrate.
Each moment is a privilege, not a given.

May I choose to celebrate life,
To celebrate the numbers,
To celebrate time,
To celebrate each moment
Of this little life
That I have been given.

May it be so.

Find more of my prayers in my book Christ Beside Me, Christ Before Me: Celtic Blessings.

7 thoughts on “Birthday Reflections”

  1. That has become my philosophy: to be grateful for each new year. On days I struggle, I remind myself of a close friend who wanted desperately to have more birthdays, but did not. I choose to welcome them in her honor.

  2. There were about 10 or 15 years I moaned and groaned about birthdays but then I turned 50. It was like a door opened in my heart and joy exploded. I am 68 now and don’t like the physical aspect of aging but the spiritual is a wonder. As I become less He becomes more.

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