I'm not afraid of counting years;
Each year is a new myth exploded.
I'm not afraid of wrinkles and gray hair;
This body is how I navigate through the cosmos, so I try to love it and be kind.
I'm not afraid of death;
It is only the final myth to unravel.
I'm not even afraid of the devil,
because it is our adversary who gives us life's most precious gifts.
I'm forty-two years old and lost things are coming back:
Emails from long vanished friends
Bits of shattered faith discovered in between the cracks of the couch and under the edges of the carpet that I'm piecing together into a mosaic
New things arrive every day too:
New stories spinning out of my brain
A new sense of my place in the old story
New meaning in the ancient struggle for justice
Each year is a new crossroads.
Happy birthday to me!