I’m Alive, I’m Breathing

Birthdays have never been my favorite. Don’t get me wrong—few things bring me more joy than celebrating my loved ones as they turn a year older. Mine, however, has carried with it some weight and melancholy ever since I entered my twenties. Another year older, time lost, moments flying by at a speed I can’t keep up with...it’s hard to enjoy your cake with thoughts like these swirling around in your head. I’m sure that many of you can relate to milestones, whatever they may be, passing heavily. But we are not here to commiserate—not today. Today, we are alive.

And that is the bit of comfort that I intend to carry with me into this next year, and all of those to follow.

Last week, I turned 27. Before you say anything, I get it—I'm young! (In my opinion, youth is primarily a state of mind anyway). While I am logically aware of the fact that I have many years ahead of me, I can’t help but notice the ticking clock in the back of my mind. As an avid lover of Jane Austen, a particular quote kept coming to mind as I approached my birthday this year:

“I’m twenty-seven years old. I’ve no money and no prospects. I’m already a burden to myparents, and I’m frightened”.

Ouch. While on one hand this quote makes me laugh, it couldn’t feel more accurate. What a strange age to be, and what a strange age we all live in. Between the timelines ingrained in us from eras past and the ever-increasing speed of modern life, it is the perfect recipe for an existential crisis. What am I doing? Where am I going? Hell, will I die alone?? These questions feel both laughably dramatic and painfully urgent to answer. This year, each time I have wanted to curse the clock for continuing to tick forward, someone has come to mind and grounded me.

That person is seventeen-year-old me.

Ten years ago, I had a very different vision of how my life would be. If I had followed her timeline, I would be a songwriter/music producer, and probably have three kids by now, because clearly, we saw time through a different lens back then. But yes, that was my “plan”. That is, of course, if I made it.

It's a heavy thought, I know. Life can be heavy. Life can bring us trials that we never expected to be able to face. But look at us! So far, you and I have come out swinging. Each time we are tempted to resent growing older and the changes that that brings, let us remember that it is a privilege. That new line I found on my forehead yesterday is nothing short of a gift. We are alive. We are breathing. And what a beautiful thing that is.

This year. I am overwhelmed with gratitude. I have been blessed with another year filled with endless possibilities. Despite all I have put it through, my body is still dancing. My chest continues to rise and fall. And, for once, my soul is filled with hope.

Memento Mori, Memento Vivere.