The Time Of My Life

Every year it comes around to remind us that someone is keeping track of our time here. Marking the moments as they add up into days, weeks, months and years. Giving us something to reflect upon as we turn our heads and look over our shoulder at yesterday. And once again, I marvel at how fast the time has gone. But it isn’t gone really…it is still here and so am I.

     I have always wondered why some lives celebrate so few birthdays. Their time here cut short never to be able to ponder like I do now over the span of 50 plus years. Seems so unfair, I just can’t seem to find the answer to in my head. I tell myself that each of us has our own journey and different destinations. I believe this to be the way of life. Yet some days I can comprehend this more clearly than other days.

     So here I am, another year older- so shouts the calendar. Time has painted my hair with grey and wrinkles have cleverly crept up around my eyes and neck. I may do my best to combat aging with my simple creams and hair dyes. But I own the battle scars nonetheless. They remind me that there is a reason that I am still here on my journey. They tell me that I should maintain a sense of purpose as I continue. They become a reminder that I have had opportunity to live long enough to acquire them. They are my war paint.

     As I try to live in the present, I look upon the past as a road that I have chosen to travel amid many crossroads, twists and turns. I try to look upon the future as an endless choice of trails before me. I know that at some point the tracking of my years in this life will end. I too will reach my destination. Until I do, I  strive to find that joy in each day, week, month and year that I have left on this road. I repeat my inner mantra “true joy lies in the journey.” And I go on…hoping that I have learned not to mark time but to really live within it. For this… is the time of my life.