A Year …

A year ago this evening I felt as if I were on the edge of new beginning

a precipice of lovely warmth that called out to me.

My heart drew me forward

and

my soul accepted the challenge.

This was a gift I gave to myself.

Today marks the anniversary of change.

A change for good, although during the year there have been stumbles.

But for all intents and purposes I have picked my self up, dusted off and started all over again.

I seek adventure. love. passion. creativity and fulfillment.

Despite a somewhat pervasive feeling of bittersweet I still sense the pulsating change that is occurring deep within.

Tomorrow is my birthday.

I will celebrate life.

And, I will honour my strength, soulfulness, and deep determination to find that which my heart seeks.

I am grateful.

Thank you to all who have shown me love.  Past and present.  You stay within my being, always.  No matter where you go, I will always remember the sweetness that we shared.

New adventures lay ahead.

So I will let go of all that no longer serves me. But blessedly.

I am alive.

I am free.

My heart yearns, but at least it feels.

I believe.

Happy Birthday to me.

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Day of Birth …

Birthdays fill me with dread.

Existential angst, if you will.

A few questions come to mind:

Have  I accomplished any major goals? 

Am I further along now than I was a year ago? 

Is that a wrinkle forming in the corner of my eye?

Have I built up my karmic coins? 

Why haven’t  I fulfilled my destiny? The one I once knew about when the world was sparkly and brand new on the day of my birth. 

Have I lessened my carbon foot print? 

Did I contribute anything to the world? Beauty? Peace? 

Will I find what I’m looking for?  Do I even know what that is?

When did ballerina jewelry boxes become silly for an adult woman? 

Why can’t I remember ‘that’ feeling? The one of  utter joy and bliss when blowing out birthday candles on a pink iced cake. 

Will I be loved for who I am now and not for what I might become? 

Will ‘ROC’ skin products always be around? Or will I simply get lucky and find I have my Swedish grandmother’s ‘good’ genes? 

Why?

Where?

When? 

How?

5 days and counting …