When I'm 64...

Yesterday, I turned 64. I woke up singing, “When I’m 64…” by the Beatles!

(Thank you to everyone who called, texted, or stopped by. Your love and presence made this day even more meaningful than I could have imagined.)

There’s something about birthdays that quietly ask us to pause—really pause—and take in the landscape of our lives. Not just the milestones or the highlights, but the full, lived-in journey. The choices, the lessons, the healing, the becoming.

We often rush past our birthdays with cake, candles, and a quick wish. Or look to ignore them completely. What if we treated them as something sacred?

A personal ceremony.

A moment of acknowledgment.

A threshold.

Yesterday, I gave myself that gift.

I began my day with birthday coffee from my husband! And then moved into a ceremony—outside, in my backyard, with the pups and a small fire burning. I created a despacho… an offering to honor this exact point in my life. Not who I used to be. Not who I’m striving to become. But who I am, right here, right now. Thanking the cosmos, Mother Earth, and all of those who have supported me in getting to this place in life. Those on this side of the realm of life and those on the other side!

On the mat for the Despacho I wrote words, intentions that included: being in deep gratitude, building a new kind of community, and connecting with people more frequently., peole who resonate with my own souls path of existence

There is something deeply powerful about starting your day that way—before the noise, before the expectations—just you, your breath, and the truth of your life.

Later, I celebrated with my family—my heart, my foundation—and let myself fully receive the love that surrounds me.

Oh, there was this beautiful, unexpected moment…when the day started!

My husband—who also turned 64 recently—printed out the lyrics to "When I’m 64" and taped them to the bathroom mirror - not just the original words… he rewrote parts of it to reflect our life. Our story. Our years together.

So now, for a few months, we get to live inside this shared moment of being 64 together.

How often do we actually mark time like that?

How often do we celebrate not just aging—but arriving?

Every birthday holds meaning. (Every day holds meaning.)

Every year carries evidence of your resilience, your growth, your courage to keep going.

And if you’re here—reading this—then your story is still unfolding.

So I’ll ask you this:

How will you honor your next birthday?

Or any meaningful milestone in your life?

You don’t need anything elaborate. Just intention. Presence. A willingness to witness your own life with reverence.

Here are a few simple ways to begin:

• Light a small fire—or even a single candle—and sit with it. Let it represent your life force, your presence, your continuation.

• Spend time under a tree. Feel its roots beneath you, anchoring deep into the earth, reminding you how supported you truly are.

• Reflect on how far you’ve come. Not just the visible accomplishments, but the inner shifts no one else sees.

• Release something that no longer serves you—write it down and burn it, speak it aloud, or simply let it go with intention.

• Offer gratitude—for the lessons, the love, the resilience, and the simple fact that you are still here.

Mark it. Honor it. Witness yourself. Because every birthday is a quiet miracle.

Your life is not something to rush past - it's something to recognize, tend too, and celebrate! Every year you’re here…means something.

Happy birthday - wherever it falls on the calendar!

P.S. Yes, Jeff, we will still feed each other at 64 and at 94!

Happy Birthday to all!