It’s the eve of my 35th birthday.
A few years ago, I was on the phone with my brother. We were talking about the logistics of life, when he suddenly threw a dart at me.
“When you reach your thirties, you watch your dreams die,” he said.
I remember the way I reacted, moving my face back from the phone, quite physically taken aback. I was shocked. Appalled. Saddened. Confused.
I’m turning 35. And none of my dreams have died. Some of them have even come true. And the ones that haven’t…? Why, they don’t haunt me; they DELIGHT me — I think to them daily.
Happy Birthday To Me.