I found this file on my computer - I wrote it during the day of my birth. Its kinda cool.
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Its 4:30am, October 13, 2008. I’m laying on my bed in Sale Maraino on Lake Iseo just north of Milan suffering a mild case of jet lag. I’m 40 years old here in Italy, yet still 39 for another 4 and half hours back home. I’m amazed at how space and time are linked to create some perceived reality of age.
In ways I’m actually 80 years old and in others I’m 20. That is why the earth’s age of me is not relevant (at least in this moment), except mostly to those around me.
So I began my morning (the start of my 41st year) reading the last few pages of a book I started on the plane, Veronika Decides to Die. This is probably one of the most profound books I have read in a long time; largely because I am in a “listening” space of awareness that this book’s message of love, awareness and risk pierced me on many fronts. I quote Mari (a character in the book), “the danger in one days adventure is worth a thousand days of ease and comfort.”
My adventure today here in the foothills of the Dolomites on the shores of one of the most beautiful lakes I’ve seen, it to construct my day, my month, my year with huge amounts of awareness and to realize that every second of it (time) is building and creating me.
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