My 54th Birthday: A Celebration and A Reflection

Today is my birthday.

I turn 54-years old.

I hear some complain of “getting older.” They don’t want to hear out loud the number associated with the span of their years. They seem almost to want to keep their age a secret. That is not me.

I enjoy getting older. I have earned my gray hairs. I am 54 today.

I don’t enjoy the increasing aches and pains of an aging body. I don’t enjoy seeing those in the generation ahead of me fall into disrepair and even die. I don’t. My father mentioned that he wanted to invite two good friends to our joint birthday party, but neither of them can easily navigate the stairs down to his house. So he didn’t invite them. Going anywhere for someone so elderly is a bit of an imposition. This state of affairs will not be improved in five or ten years for my father or any of his generation.

I am supposedly in a stressful time of life. I have two daughters entering adolescence in the generation below me, at the same time as a father and uncles who are in their eighties in the generation above. That would equal a lot of caregiving.

That is true enough. And I am more than willing to give what care I can.

Still. 

I am happy this birthday, despite everything. I generally enjoy my days.

I expect and want so much less than I did in the past. Is this why I am happier than I was in earlier decades? Is the key to peace of mind lowering your expectations?

My younger daughter today asked me what “my dream car would be to own.” I told her I don’t have a dream car. I have what I could afford to own — or, more to the point, what I would be willing to spend for in a car, considering I don’t care much about automobiles.* Beyond that I don’t speculate about cars. I don’t fantasize about owning an expensive one.

Similarly, I don’t have extravagant dreams for the future. 

I don’t have burning ambitions to make a fortune or become famous. I don’t seek to transform or transcend myself from my present state. I am more than content to be exactly who I am, no more and no less.

I don’t envy anybody else. I have no sworn enemies, as far as I know. Neither do I nurse grand hatreds or bitter resentments. I avoid disputation and polemic, if I can. I mostly mind my own business. I am content.

And to be “content” is better than being “happy,” in my opinion. Those who are always smiling and claim to be perpetually “happy” seem like either children or fools to me. Or they are bouncing from elation to despair over and over. I will take contentment. Self-possession, in my opinion, is the mark of a mature man.

I am grateful for what I have. I don’t need much, and I already have almost all that I need. I rarely compare myself to others anymore. They say “comparison is the thief of joy” and there is truth in this. I don’t focus on what I don’t have.

I know I won’t live forever, and this helps me to let go of the past. The eternal present is what is important. The past is gone and the future will take care of itself: such an understanding is freeing. To age is to relax, in my experience. One is content to appreciate whatever the day might bring. To be alive is enough. The sun shines on your face and you are happy just to be there. So savor the moment. We will all be dead soon enough.

That is why turning 54 is SO MUCH BETTER than turning 34. I am more at peace with myself. I enjoy my life more. I make healthier choices. I have a more positive outlook. I try to remain grateful. I was full of angst and anxiety when I was 24 or 34. I would not go back, even if I could. Life is meant to be lived forwards, not backwards. 

I played tennis two days ago and again yesterday. I played well. The sun shone on my face. I was with my friends. We enjoyed a cold beer and good conversation afterwards.

My body was tired, so I had earned my appetite for dinner. I slept well that evening.

I woke up early feeling strong in body and in mind, and I was ready for the new day.

I was eager to start my 54th year.

Life is good.

Amen.

* By the way, the idea that owning a luxury automobile will make you “happy” is ludicrous. Such thinking is the propaganda of clever marketers. Life is just not that simple.