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“Happy Birthday” from your Monkey Mind!
It was my 40th birthday a couple of weeks ago.
I’m not mentioning this to make you feel guilty about not sending me a card (I’m assuming it was lost in the post, like last year’s 😊) but because the way other people responded to me TURNING 40!!! suddenly started me thinking: what is it about ‘landmark’ birthdays that are such a big deal?
Does it begin when we’re 18, and legally we’re suddenly an adult so we can do all the things we’ve secretly been doing for the last few years anyway, only our parents pretended they never knew about it?
Or 21, which is basically the same as being 18 except you have a bigger party and, according to ancient tradition, you’re finally given ‘the key to the door’ which is nice because, at that age, it’s a bit undignified to keep climbing out the window.
Or 30, the age when many of us start thinking it’s time to get serious and do something real with our life? Or 40, the age when… I’ve just turned 40, so we’ll gloss over that one, but you can see where I’m going with this.
Even when we reach a hundred, we get a telegram from the Queen!
(So maybe it’s the Queen’s fault? Did the Queen start all of this?!)
Seriously, though, as a society we’re obsessed with ‘big number’ birthdays and grand…
