the weight of a birthday...

(via)

Birthdays have become inevitable.  As are my weird reactions to them each year.

Something I should have more heartily prepared my husband for before we wed.  Among other things. (The way I dance at weddings after a glass of champagne).

I bounce back and forth from wanting a lot of attention to feeling uncomfortable with the attention that I receive. It's too much and then not enough. I want a monument erected in my birthday honor.  And then I'm embarrassed that I was even born.

And this was the first birthday where I felt like getting older was a bad thing. Like the life I hold in my hands is slipping through like sand. Every grain a moment I can't get back. Eventually you pause in asking if they were good moments and acknowledge that they are YOUR moments and they are limited in number. 

I feel more weight this year, after this thirty first birthday. I believe this is the direct result of my current mid life crisis.

(I have one every year)

I'm understanding more than ever that my actions and choices will be my remembrance. The laziness, the activity, the blessings I give and the life I steal. There is weight to my life.

It cannot be careless anymore.

It may not appear to be careless to others but we all know the depths of our own hearts. I'm afraid I've been lacking conviction lately. And hard work. And that thing that the world changers all possess. I know I have it. We all do. I once felt it at church when I unknowingly inspired someone to greatness. And then most recently when I was inspired by words unknowingly written for me.

But after a short examination I send it away because it scares me. This is the part that needs to change.  Hold on to it when it comes. Let it jolt you into action.

Don't let that slip through like sand.

And I was totally going to write a light as a feather birthday weekend post.