Happy Birthday to Me!

Note: See that little girl, top, left? I got a present in the mail from her yesterday. She's a sister from another mother.

I never cared about age. Every birthday was a celebration and the opportunity for something special to happen. But this birthday is bothering me. I feel time slipping away, I feel anxious and antsy. There's something I was meant to do and I haven't done it yet. The problem is, I don't know exactly what it is.

I watch for signs, I try to seize opportunities. All I know for sure is that I haven't done my best work yet and the years are ticking down. If I throw myself headlong into those projects I always wanted to finish, the thing I was always meant to do may become obvious.

I've never told anyone this, but ever since I was a young girl, I've felt special. I quietly watched the world go about it's business as one person after another shouted their importance, tripping over their shoelaces as they went off to boast about their greatness to someone else. I'd smile to myself and think, "Just wait. Have I got a surprise for you."

I don't mean to say I felt superior. Just special. But now I fear I'll waste the gifts I've been given. I think it's time to roll up my sleeves and see what I'm really capable of. I'm scared, though. I'm not afraid of failure, I'm afraid to succeed.

I don't like drawing attention to myself. In fact, I'm becoming uncomfortable writing about myself now. So let's end it here with a promise to myself to work harder, to dig deeper and to face my fears. I have some ideas in the hopper that may pan out to be that one great thing I was always meant to do.

Just wait. Have I got a surprise for you.