Here's to a lifetime of friendship

A birthday wish that comes true again every year

There was this Maple tree in my yard when I was growing up. The kind that turns bright red in the fall.

I would climb it as high as I could, wrap my arms around the trunk, and let the wind move me.

I could see the world from there, but the world couldn’t see me through the leaves. The view, the distance, the vegetation made me feel safe. I could feel and think there.

That Maple tree remains, its foliage igniting with color each Autumn, just as it has for all the years I know.

But I stopped climbing trees years ago.

Birthdays nearly always push me into the depths of my mind, and into the past. A space where I can see the whole of my world - every mistake, failure, the pain I’ve felt, and the pain I’ve caused, but also every success, accomplishment, and moment of joy and happiness.

For some time, I’ll sit with my mind around these thoughts and let them move me. To some it looks like melancholy. But I’d say it’s more like bittersweet.

“Bittersweet, adjective: Arousing pleasure tinged with sadness or pain”

All at once I can feel the tinge of sadness of knowing all those moments forever lost to time. I can feel the sadness of wasted years and effort meeting others’ expectations or hesitating on my dreams. I can feel loss and what could’ve been, what nearly was, and what never will be.

And I can feel all of that at the same time I experience the arousing pleasure of the life I’ve lived, the life that is, the life that awaits, the life that is possible, and the life that will unfold. I can see all these experiences, and this variety of feelings, and know that I am living.

I have experienced several versions of myself in this life. I’m glad for that. What a good and fortunate thing it is to grow, to feel, and to live.

That Maple tree remains, its foliage igniting with color each Autumn, just as it has for all the years I know.

But I stopped climbing trees years ago.

I don’t find safety anymore in high-up places and thick clusters of leaves.

I find it in the people who love me. Who send a nice word or note, or a quiet appreciation, or otherwise touch me in the slightest of meaningful ways. In those who take time to wish me a happy birthday every year.

And I find it in those I get to love, too.

Thank you for caring about me. Thank you for your kindness, your thoughtfulness, and your friendship.

How lucky it is that we get to live in this place and this time together.