As my 65th birthday is approaching, I realize that every day is one less day I have to live. To some that may seem a statement of hopelessness, but to me it is a blessing to really understand this in a positive sense. It means I now recognize the importance of each day that I live. I feel fortunate in that I know my life has had value and that I have made a difference on this planet. This is important to me, so even if this is my last day, I have no regrets. But I want to make the most of the days I have left. And, if I live as long as my Dad (he was strong until 90 and died at 91), I have 25 good years. How many of those years will be great years filled with love and light and how many will just be years of life? No one can know.
I’ve done a lot in 65 years and still have things I want to do. Some of that is on behalf of others and some on my own behalf. I’m not finished producing yet and won’t be happy just traveling to all the places on my bucket list. But I am thinking more about that list. I’ve already done and seen a lot of things I wanted to do and see and most of what is left is traveling/exploring and connection with myself and others. Nothing I would regret if I found out I was going to die tomorrow, but each day is more precious than the last.
It is my new phase and I am grateful that I am having this realization at this time. I don’t know what other people think about when they turn 65, but this is what’s on my mind these days.