Yesterday — August 30th, 2020 — marked my 60th birthday.
Sixty years of wandering around on this planet, trying to make sense of this thing we call "life," while taking in as many sights and sounds as possible.
I'm sure I'm not the only person on the planet to have sat down and thought "Well, it certainly has been a strange journey!"
Age is Just a Number?
When I was a little kid, "sixty" sounded really old, but what is this thing we call "old?" My grandparents seemed old... but they were much older than sixty, mind you.
I don't feel old...
Who I am, and what I am doing... seems very far removed from what a typical person of sixty was doing back in 1965...
The more interesting "cosmic" question I have contemplated over the years has come up every time someone has asked me "So how does to feel to be 16?" (or 21, 30, 49, 50 or any other number).
It always felt like there is some sort of "expectation" of a profound and meaningful answer when someone asks that... and yet? It has never "felt" any particular way to grow one year old. In a similar way, 59.364 didn't "feel" any different from 60.000.
The Man in the Mirror
I have always had a pretty "peaceful" relationship with myself... meaning, with my physical and chronological self.
The odd thing is, when I look in a/the mirror I don't really see a "someone;" an "anyone." Maybe that sounds strange... because I am definitely aware of seeing a reflection of a human being, and I can tell whether or not that human being has shaved, or has a suntan, or has egg from breakfast stuck in his beard.
But my sense of "who I am" isn't deeply rooted in that reflection. I don't identify specifically as "a man," or "a writer," or "an artist" or "a nerd."
I guess identity has just never been my strong suit!
I have definitely never been anyone who spent much time in front of a mirror... for anything other than purely functional reasons. And — to be perfectly honest — I quite often forget about even that, because I... forget that "I" am actually inhabiting this human body.
It's hard to explain.
And I don't mean all of the above in a dissociative sort of way... because I am definitely aware of my body when I am knocked out tired after a couple of hours of mowing the lawn!
I suppose I just don't have as much of an attachment to "identity" as most people...
The Seventh Decade
Numbers amuse me... as they did yesterday, when I contemplated the juxtaposition of being sixty but just having embarked on my seventh decade on this planet.
What will I see, between now and August 30th, 2030? What will I experience? What sort of world will we live in, by then? Will there even be a world, or will we finally have succeeded in making ourselves extinct? Certainly feels like we're trying hard enough...
In the meantime, what will I strive for, on the path ahead. Well... I'm not sure, but this quote by His Holiness the Dalai Lama at least hints at it:
“I believe that the very purpose of life is to be happy. ... It is the principal source of success in life. Since we are not solely material creatures, it is a mistake to place all our hopes for happiness on external development alone. The key is to develop inner peace.”
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Created at 20200831 19:42 PDT
0104/1331