Forty-three.

Photo by GlitterGuts!

This is the first time I think I’ve ever worked on my birthday. Sure, there were years when I was a talent buyer that I guess I technically “worked” on my birthday, but those evenings were always filled with showcases of favorite local bands basically playing my birthday party. Not really “work,” huh?

But this year I ran short on vacation days due to, you know, raking time off to get married, so instead of taking the day off I’m at the 9-to-5, which I have to admit does make the day feel a little less special. On top of that, since the last month has basically been both ecstatic and utterly draining—again, that whole wedding thing—it’s hard to feel like ye olde forty-third birthday is really anything to get excited about. I have no party planned this year, no get-together with friends. Heck, I don’t even know where (or if) there will be a birthday dinner tonight with Mich.

At the same time, I am excited about ye olde forty-three. First of all, I’ve made it this far! And for that I am immensely grateful. And this is my first birthday as a married guy! Something else I am grateful for. This is also the first birthday where I am actually beginning to feel mortality deep in my bones, as the realization I may be over halfway done with my journey sets in. I mean, I hope I’m not at the halfway point yet, but still! There’s that possibility. And it’s something that I’ve only recently really started to grapple with. I’ve been gifted with a resilient constitution, but mortal I still am.

So in some ways forty-three seems like an arbitrary number; it’s not a traditional “milestone” like thirty or forty (or my favorite, thirty-five, when I was eligible to run for president) but in its own way I think it’s a milestone for me. For me forty-three marks a new chapter in my personal journey.

So let’s go.