I recently passed my 60th birthday and have felt compelled to say something. It seems that the build up to it caused more consternation then was warranted, but never the less I thrashed around and around that I was some how getting old. Of course I am. I thought more about my work more than anything. It seems that since I started this journey so many years ago, I have always been working to perfect my craft, get it right…and then something would happen. What? I don’t know exactly. Fame? Fortune? A sense of satisfaction? All the above? All I know is that I just keep working, trying to get it right. Whatever that means. I find myself thinking back to other zero birthdays and where I perceived myself to be at that time. The searching thing has been constant. So has fretting over passing a marker year. But the journey has been good, I have arrived to here and now and at least I don’t have to think about it so hard for another ten years.
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