I’m done counting time. I just want to live and be grateful.
"...I don’t celebrate birthdays. So that stops me from counting days, which stops me from counting time. Which allows me to look the same way I did 10 years ago..." – Prince
I turned 32 recently (Nov. 25, 2017) and my day was filled with HAPPINESS. Just happy for no reason. Just grateful to be breathing. I couldn’t explain where this amount of joy was coming from but I received and lived in it. Thinking of what to do, I enlisted the help of my good girlfriend because she’s been doing this New York living thing for 6 years now. I wanted something chic/grown & sexy to celebrate a new year, and my first official birthday as a New York resident. We settled on a Sex and the City type lounge where the drinks were good, the music was filled with the likes of Journey & Madonna, and the ambiance screamed Adults Only! The name of this magical place, Employees Only. Sweet cocktails that opened my pallet to want more of this style of adulting. The cocktails came with a flirty bartender who was so kind to acknowledge my birthday with a complementary drink and cake to split with my girl. Just the touch I needed to welcome in another year in my early thirties. I just wanted a happy day. And I got that.
Prior to this day, I had a bit of reflection. Mostly bad. As always, reaching a certain age society says you should have it all figured out by now. Youngins (teens and early 20 year olds) look at you like “I’m not gonna be like her when I get that age.” Older people wonder why you aren’t married with kids or why you don’t have that grand career. But those parts don’t bother me. My reflections consisted of the goals I set for myself and as life goes, the curve balls prevented me from reaching them. Yea I know it happens to everybody, but it still stings a bit. Even finding myself being consumed and obsessed with age. Looking at others younger than me and wondering what did they do right? I started to feel like I was 10 years behind. What in tha hell have I been doing for the past 10 years?
The unanswered question had me down for a minute but like clockwork, a reminder of what I’ve accomplished in my short time on this earth put things into perspective. No I don’t have everything I want but I’ve done a lot. And sitting around pondering about what or where I went wrong won’t change the past. Might as well move forward right?
Although I had a great day bringing in 32, I want that feeling EVERYDAY. Not just because I’m adding another year to my life. Plus, people put so much effort into an age. As soon as you meet someone, how old are you? Why does it matter? I’m here. Get to know me and see if my maturity level matches yours; because I’ve come across some grown ass kids. Sitting around counting the days and time only makes life go by faster. I want to enjoy moments and create memories. Of course I can do that while celebrating my birthday but at some point, I wouldn’t mind forgetting how old I am. I’m not your average 32 year old. I’m youthful but wise. Free-spirited but structured. And sometimes I go through spurts of feeling like I’m living like a college student. It’s weird to most but my life works for me and I don’t need the pressure of “Well you’re this age now so you may want to stop doing that.” NOPE! It feels good, I’m taking care of business, and I’m not hurting anybody.
Now this method may not work for or even be understood by everyone and its OK. Refusing to count time allows me to enjoy living. Making the days count instead of counting the days. On paper I’ll acknowledge how many years ago my parents conceived me but it won’t dictate my goals or how I’m moving in this life. I look good. And not that whole “looking good for my age” thing.
Prince was on to something, keeping tabs on time does nothing but grow you up faster than you need to. I’ll still accept the well wishes on future Nov 25th dates, but as for me, every day will be a celebration of the fact that I’m here.
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