birthdays
Today is my birthday. For some reasons I don't like my birthday.
Why could that be?
As a child, birthdays were magical - filled with excitement, gifts, and cake. Now, as an adult, the shine has worn off. Why?
Perhaps it's the contrast between childhood anticipation and adult reality. As grown-ups, we can buy what we want and eat cake anytime. The specialness fades.
But why do we celebrate birthdays at all?
It's rather arbitrary - one trip around the sun, shared with millions of others born on the same day. We're not special for being born; we're just regular people like everyone else. The obligatory attention from people outside of my inner circle feels forced and hollow. It's as if the calendar dictates when people should care, rather than genuine connection and appreciation. I notice my introvert side on birthdays; I don't like being the center of attention for no real reason.
Birthdays also seem to contradict the idea of celebrating life. If we're truly grateful for our existence, shouldn't we acknowledge that daily rather than annually? Focusing on a single day diminishes the value of the other 364.
My conclusions going forward:
- Celebrate personal achievements and growth, not mere passage of time.
- Give attention and gifts any day I feel like doing so, not when dictated by dates.
- Cherish every day, not just birthdays.