I don’t embrace age as a number of days, bunched in years, to be the definitive measure of one’s time in life. I prefer to consider growth in maturity toward wisdom as the significant measure of age.
I do, of course, observe and celebrate birthdays. Anything for a party! I respect every day on our Western calendar. Every day. Holidays. Weekends. Each day is a blessing, regardless of where it falls on the Gregorian calendar. Or the Julian. Or the Mayan – what have you. Numbers of days bunched into years, however, are math to me. And math is a language that I have not mastered.
Age, however, goes beyond the number of days one observes in the course of years lived across the pages of Pope Gregory’s calendars. Age is determined in one’s growth, experience, education, and knowledge. These are measured as wisdom. Do we appreciate the beauty of age’s character if we neglect to consider age as wisdom? Rather than simply tabulating the revolutions the earth has spun around the sun during my lifetime and taking that empty empirical measure of time as the absolute value of my age, I prefer to consider the measure of how I chose to use my time.
Twilight on Vera; 11 p.m. in mid-May. The loons were joyous…
I had a very happy birthday on July 1 this year. Same day as my friend, Candy Stapleton.