I am sitting at the last diner standing, finishing my breakfast. They are paying for it as a birthday breakfast, a day before my actual birthday. (I am working tomorrow, and won’t make my morning diner dive.). They are so nice to me here. Yesterday at my Rutland Church, one of my parishioners gave me a card signed by a whole slew of other church members, because she will not be at the church tomorrow when I am there. I have started getting cards in the mail.

I turn 70 tomorrow. It is, they tell me, a landmark birthday. Certainly I am bemused at it. 70, when I was younger, was OLD. And now, here I am.

In some ways, I do not feel old. Yes my body shows and feels the wear and tear of a body that has lived with energy and passion. Yes, I have more and more grey hair (where I still have hair.). When I smile, which is often, my face is an eruption of wrinkles. But those eyes sparkle. There is energy and drive in them. I have things I want to do still. If anything, there is an urgency to doing them because I know I only have so many years left to do them.

When I was young, I was told I had an old soul. So now, my body has caught up with my soul. I love young. I ponder old. I have a younger man’s intensity, and an older man’s peace. It is a weird combination, and one I do not think much about until a birthday comes around and I wonder how I got here.

I look back now and again. Not regularly, but now and again, and when I do, I am amazed at the journey – all the things I have gone through. The highs have been amazing. The lows have been so, so very dark. I have been so very broken that I wonder that I emerged not just intact, but finding joy. FInding peace.

The lessons! OMG, the lessons! Live to a certain age and you have learned so many of them. Some of them mine, and because of the work I have had over the years, many of those lessons have come from other people.

I am comfortable in my own skin. That should not have taken as long as it did, but it is a good place to be finally. Life, even the hard stuff, is so much easier when you are. I wish I had realized how life expands when you can just be who and what you are every moment. My life now is rich and deep. I wish I had more time to enjoy being here, but that is not how time works.

Truth be told, I have no idea how time works. I have never felt it like most people do. On a superficial level, I keep time, keep appointments, keep deadlines. But on a larger level, time seems to melt into itself. Was this five years ago, or seven? DId I do this for 30 years or 35? Most of the things in my life take the time they take. I don’t put deadlines on them. I wish I could blame that on age, but I was this way when I was 25. Time, for me, is this great cosmic mush.

I do not, or so people tell me, act my age.

I have no idea what age I act like, to be honest. I just live and change and hopefully grow. My mother used to say you began to die when you stopped growing. I take the same view.

You lose things with age, but if you are fortunate, and I have been, you gain things too. Life is a series of trade-offs (My kids and my closest friends have heard that phrase ad nauseum). Some of mine were great. Some of them were pretty poor.

I don’t do rules well. That plagued me when I was younger. It was a constant sticking point between me and my father. It got me in trouble in school and in some of my earlier jobs. But as I aged, it seemed to have worked for me. I live by a few principles, not rules. And when I found myself in places of “authority”, which happened often, I led the same way. A few principles, not rules. That has served me well, giving me and the people I led structure and foundation, as well as room to think, change and make decisions well. I am proud of that part of my life.

I am loved. That has always amazed me. I never felt particularly loveable. I still don’t. I would put myself in the average category there. But I have an extraordinary number of people who value and love me. It’s a good feeling, whether I deserve it or not. I am grateful to all of you who have shown me love. God it good.

And I love. I am full of love, the feeling, and love the work you do to care for people. I am fortunate in that because there is not enough love in this world. We all say love is the answer, but we don’t use it enough. If we did, we would find, as I have found, that it really is.

Life’s not perfect. I think I will be afflicted with my depression for the rest of my life. There’s a certain fear in that. Right now, I am strong enough to push it back and live the life I want. What happens when I do not have the strength to push that depression back? I don’t want to live in that dark place. I have fought it, actively fought it, for a long time. I want to be able to fight it till the end. Not just for me but for the people who have to put up with me.

Life is not perfect. Parts of me do not work right. Accidents. Cancer, and a slew of other things that are part and parcel of getting older have taken their toll. I get frustrated with my body at times. But despite all the stuff that does not work right, I can do all the things that are important to me, and I have the energy to do it.

Energy – that is so important. And at 70, I still have a fair amount of it. It is a survivor’s energy, grateful and joyful. And in the end, it is the energy that is our life. The energy we take in. The energy we give off, and the energy we put to work.

I’ll stop rambling here. Because that is all I am doing. Here’s the most important part of being 70 – I am grateful. Grateful for the life I still have. Grateful to still have horizons. Grateful for all those who care for me (Which includes some of you, my dear readers). Grateful for a God who has loved me through every dark corner and every mountaintop time. Considering the journey I have led, that is more blessing than I deserve. How could I be anything other than grateful.

Be well. Travel wisely,

Tom