Starting Up The Next Mountain

So, in the last few weeks I've summited another peak in the mysterious "Older Than I Ever Thought I'd Be" mountain range, and my Sisyphus rock has tumbled me back down to the beginning of another birth-year. As usual, the only one who noticed the passing of the ephemeral marker was the Beneficiary, who was out of town, and my mother, who fed me birthday cake as is the tradition of her generation.

I'd nearly forgotten it myself. But, then, I almost always do. People think that my shoddy memory on the matter is an affectation, which annoys me enough that the last few years I've literally been putting it on my own calendar with reminders and hiding my surprise and pretending I remember it when someone mentions it. This caused a weird feedback loop because now I notice when it's NOT remembered by anyone but my calendar notification system even though I'd forgotten it myself until I got the email. Hah! Turns out I'm as weird a human as everyone else.

Either way, birthdays are not the huge deal for me that they are for some others. However, when I'm arsed to notice that another one's upon me or gone past, I do stop for a moment to consider where I've been for the last year and how I got here. I don't spend much time considering the future, as whether I'll even be there for it, never mind what shape it will take, is mostly out of my control. I've done what I can to prepare for it, and it will work out or not.

No, mostly what I'm interested in these days is my present, and more particularly how I respond to it. This is a fancy way of asking "Who am I?" I suppose, and since who we are is our past and nothing else, it can be productive to occasionally get in touch with it. A calendar marker such as a birthday is as good a place as any to be reminded to do so.

"I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, hammering on the mind's door at 4 AM of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, and who is going to make amends."
(Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem)

Having had more of these 4 AM visits than I'm comfortable admitting, I can't argue that for a minute.

I won't bother you with the details of my introspection this year, except to note that, as I've said before, I'm about as content as I've ever been in my life.

Will it last? Who knows. It's been a good run so far, but life's pretty unpredictable and virtually all of it falls outside of what I can control. Good words, but more than words; I'm accepting them at a more and more core level every day. Slowly I'm learning to just be where I am and be content with whatever is going my way and ignore what is not which, as I say, is almost always stuff that's beyond my control anyway.

This is not a terrible way to be, even for we borderline sociopathic loners who have horrible histories and who are, even at our best, congenital interpersonal maladroits. Something in the genetic makeup, I suspect.

So, here's to another year, plus or minus a month, of hanging out with y'all, or at least whoever remains. I can't tell for sure because I don't track it that closely, but it seems I've lost some I thought would be around forever. Be interesting to see who's still hanging out next time around or if I'm back to banging an empty drum.