On Turning Forty Five

Today is my 45th Birthday.

I don't really know what to make of this.  Forty five sounds so, well, old I guess.  I think of those whom I have known that have been in their mid-forties and have always thought that sounded on the downhill side of disaster.

It's interesting, because I don't really know that is correct.  If I take stock of my life today (never a bad exercise), I find that I am probably in better shape than I have been in for years.  I'm actually doing athletic activities (Highland Games, Iaido, running).  My interests in music, language, history and reading are as broad as they've ever been. 

My family continues to enjoy good health overall; my children are intelligent, interesting, talented, and focused.  My wife continues to be a great wife, selflessly giving of her time to support the children's various activities and interests AND holding down a job AND keeping our household running.

Our menagerie of pets is doing well with minimum maintenance and continues to add joy to our lives.

We are loved of God, have a splendid church family, and opportunities to serve.

My writing continues to go strong and I continue to explore other ways to communicate and express myself.

Sure, there are parts of my life that aren't where I'd like them to be - my career being a huge one - but on the whole, life is going quite well if I really sit down and look at it.  And Forty Five is really sort of a page marker instead of a significant milestone of decrepitude.

I'll have a quiet day today away from work - a trip to bookstore (for me, nirvana), maybe make a little cheese, practice Iaido, have dinner with Nighean dhonn, and read.  The perfect way to celebrate something which has significance only in the fact that I am doing much better than I think I am and have any right to.

Happy Birthday to me.