Birthdays are as good a time as any for starting a fresh page. And this year, mine came in with a full moon and a Jewish new year.
If that's not a message from the Universe to do a little soul-searching, I don't know what is.
Well, my appraisal goes thusly:
Over the past 12 months, I've written 5 posts on design, 12 columns about acting, 82 posts on marketing and god knows how much crap on this blog.
I've launched a monthly newsletter, been VP of Membership and President of my Toastmasters club, written 10 speeches and traveled to Portland to drink tequila with my fellow bloggers.
I'm actually too frightened to add up how many hours I've worked for money, but I've sent out 68 invoices. And some of them were for (gulp) multiple jobs.
I was hypnotized 30 days in a row and wrote about it. I've been to Disneyland twice and the ocean once. I watched my friend Mark's business take off. I watched my friend, Uma, make magic happen from the depths of coma. And then I saw magic happen to her when she awoke.
I consulted with my ex-husband on how to be a good wedding officiant and accompanied my ex-boyfriend and his girlfriend to their bible study class.
I said goodbye to some people I will miss, and reconnected with some others I thought I'd lost forever.
I got really sick. I got a muffin top. I quit acting (not necessarily in that order).
I watched time speed up. Again.
From my vantage point of 46 years (hey! I'm an Elder!), I'm pretty sure there will always be more stuff to do than hours in which to do it. There will always be promises made that aren't kept, roads not taken and wondered about, other roads taken and rued. With luck and paying attention, there will be less and less of all this as the years pass. At least, that's how it seems to be trending.
Love the minute you are in right now. Love that pimple on your face (or your butt), love the horrible meal you just made yourself, love the crappy air and the noisy traffic and the terrible drivers. Love your boyfriend and your mail carrier and your crabby uncle and your impossible friend from high school. Love your p.o.s. car. Love your too-small house and your too-big bills. Love your love handles.
Love the piece of shit blog post you wrote just now. Just...love it all.
Because it goes fast.
Super-dee-duper fast.
xxx c
Photo of my sister, Liz, my sister, Cathy, and me taken by our Aunt Patti last Thanksgiving.