I write this on February 1st, the night before my birthday. Forty-two years ago, my mother was in labor at home in Santa Monica. I would be born in the caul around 5:30 pm the next day, on my parents’ bed, my two older sisters and dad and the midwives looking on. After, as my mom held me, my dad and his friend sang this song from “It’s a Wonderful Life” on the porch.
An auspicious beginning, I’d say.
A birthday is a perfect time to reflect on aging, and to reflect on one’s “destiny age.” What is a destiny age, you ask? Why, it’s the age you feel you’re destined to be, the age that you feel mentally and spiritually, no matter your actual age.