42

January 3rd was my birthday. I usually don’t think about a New Year starting until my birthday. I suppose that is because this special day comes on the heels of rapid succession holidays, which kind of brings a finality to the celebrations. Whatever the reason, I don’t usually contemplate how I want to change things for the better, or just for the change, until the 3rd of January.

Somehow, 42 seems like a special birthday. 42 is, after all the answer to the question of life, the universe and everything (thank you Douglas Adams), so I do think  about what that question may be. What age is the true age of reason? How long until a person knows his purpose in life? How long is the perfect piece of licorice? But, I wonder, and I wander here. Getting older is always about taking a long look life and how it is lived. What am I missing? I have decided I need to work on living in the moment more. I am always concentrating on what happens later, or what happened yesterday. I have found myself envying my dog, my cats, even my horses, who all seem content to live in the here and now—what is, instead of what was or what will be. I want to strive to enjoy what I have, not what is coming. This is quite a challenge for me, so I will need to concentrate on it. Somehow that seems counter productive, but perhaps it will get easier.