Lizada: Birthdays

February is my birth month. This year by the mercy of God and His grace I am 65. When I stare at that number I have mixed feelings. Wasn’t it just a second ago I was 25? 

To say that time flies is obvious. Perhaps the better phrase is that time reveals. What I knew then and what I fought for with so much passion is now just a memory and a lesson. What I believed then is now just a thought. Perhaps what I stood by with incredible affection is now a mere reflection. 

Time reveals all the shadows and the light. What we missed in our youth emerge like mirrors on a pond showing us that what we have missed are just shimmers. Just waves. Passing. What we

thought were crucial are now trivial really. The battles we fought are now skirmishes. But we

only see them when they are revealed through time.

The irony is complete. When we are young we cannot wait to be old. And when we are old we

yearn for the lost youth. Why? Because we are always impatient, discontented even. We always

look for what we do not have and what we have we ignore. We want the tomorrow and forget

the present. And we wonder where life has gone. The lament of the lost is regret and regret is

the result of blindness.

My wife told me an interesting thing. When we are young the mood of birthdays is celebration.

We have parties and laughter. The birthdays of our youth are festive. And as we grow older our

birthdays become meditative. The mood of our later birthdays is gratitude. 

Simply put we are grateful that we have reached this age. No more blowing of candles but rather the catching of breath. No more birthday wishes because we have learned to become simple. No more celebrations because today is a party by itself. No more dramas, just living day by day. Grateful that we see the day and the night. Happy that we hear and listen. Content that we are.

And now we are here. And now what do we do? We do what we have missed and denied ourselves. The very thing that what we should have done at the onset of this gift of life. Live.

Day by day. The philosopher Tagore once said, “the butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough.” We taste, and if we dare savor, the very nectar of life. Live moment

thru each passing moment. We do not ask anymore, we merely embrace. Accept. Battles no

longer matter. Proving one’s self is pointless, even silly.

There are no longer enemies but just flawed people like me and you. Forgiveness is the power that you have. Love is the comfort of the sorrows. Serenity is priceless and a walk in the morning is heavenly. What we have searched for our entire lives remains hidden at the cusp of

our hands. And only time reveals that it has been there all along.



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