It’s the day before my birthday, and the celebrations have already begun. This morning, after waking up WAY earlier than anticipated, I made a special trip to Fort Smith for Calico County cinnamon rolls. (They’re delicious.) Since the restaurant didn’t have any that were “day old,” I bought some that were fresh out of the oven. Even better. Anyway, that’s how the day started, with two just-baked cinnamon rolls slathered in butter.

Glorious.

At breakfast my dad asked how I felt about turning 38. And whereas I have a few hang-ups about what my exterior life looks like in terms of “accomplishment,” I said that I’m extremely pleased with what my interior life looks like at 38. With each passing year, I’m happier and more comfortable in my own skin. That is to say, I love myself more. In turn, I love others more as well. So what’s not to like about growing older? A few aches and pains, perhaps? Some skin that’s not quite as tight as it used to be?

A small price to pay, I think, for what The Experience of Living gives you in return.

This afternoon I saw my therapist, and when I told her about my conversation with my dad this morning, she reminded me that although I’m not “accomplishing” a lot in terms of the world’s standards, I AM investing in myself, and that always pays off. She also said that people whose lives are “a boulevard of green lights” are often entitled and not pleasant to be around. However, she said, people who have been knocked down over and over again and continue to pick themselves back up are quite lovely.

“Well, I have been knocked down once or twice,” I smiled.

So that’s something.

Lately two words–attention and relationship–have been floating around in my brain, and my therapist happened to mention both of them today. In terms of attention, which I’ve been thinking about because it’s a limited resource and something of mine that I can control, my therapist said we have to give ATTENTION to those people and things that we care about (as opposed to every random article posted on Facebook). Later she said that if you want to have a good RELATIONSHIP with someone, or even with your bank account, you have to put your focus on it and you have to treat it well.

I like this idea, that everything in my life is a relationship. In other words, I have a relationship with body, I have a relationship with my age, I have a relationship with my parents, I have a relationship with money, and so on. Seen this way, it would, of course, behoove me to NURTURE these relationships rather than STRAIN them by, for example, giving myself a lot of shit for what I have or haven’t accomplished by a certain age. No, that wouldn’t work at all. If I want a GOOD relationship with my age, I should be as kind to it (that is, to myself) as possible.

Maybe, just maybe, I should offer myself more cinnamon rolls as a good-will gesture.

Now it’s five-thirty. I’m meeting a friend for dinner in thirty minutes, so I’m going to wrap this up. If all goes as planned, I’ll be back tomorrow–first on Facebook at 8:47 in the morning CST (the time I was born) for a Live Video, then later in the day with a birthday blog in which I’ll discuss how the cycles of the moon relate to my particular birthday. (So just wait there, on the edge of your seat.) I don’t have a beautiful way to conclude today, other than to say I’m both grateful and hopeful. Grateful for cinnamon rolls, my therapist, my friends, and growing older. Just to be here, really. Hopeful that the next thirty-eight years will, like the last thirty-eight years, be filled with adventure, rhythm, and grace.