Oh... I blinked...
They say the first sixty years of childhood are always the hardest.
Well... I couldn't agree more.
Actually, when you stop and think about it, that's kind of a ridiculous statement. Sixty years? Childhood? Whoever came up with that must have had one heck of a life. Then again... maybe they were onto something.
They also say time flies when you're having fun.
If that's true, I apparently had way more fun than I realized because somewhere along the way I managed to make sixty trips around the sun.
Sixty.
What the freak happened?
I swear it was just yesterday that sixty sounded... old. You know... the kind of age that belonged to other people. Grown-up people. People who probably had life all figured out and knew what they wanted to be when they grew up.
Spoiler alert...
I still don't.
And honestly? I'm perfectly okay with that.
Looking back over sixty years is a strange thing. It's a little like opening one of those old junk drawers that everyone has. You know the one. You're looking for one thing, and suddenly you're finding birthday candles, rubber bands, batteries that may or may not still work, a random key that fits absolutely nothing you own anymore, and somehow... a tiny treasure you completely forgot existed.
That's what sixty feels like.
A wonderfully messy collection of moments.
Some of them make me laugh until I snort my coffee.
Some still sting a little if I sit with them too long.
Some I wish had lasted forever.
Others... well... let's just say I'm grateful they're safely in the rearview mirror.
Was it all bad?
Of course not.
Was it all good?
Also, of course not.
Was it all worth it?
Well...
Yeah.
Most of it anyway.
The older I get, the more I realize we humans have a funny way of measuring life. We count birthdays because they're easy to count. One year. Ten years. Twenty-five. Forty. Sixty.
But life doesn't actually happen in years.
Life happens in moments.
Lots can happen in six seconds.
A phone rings.
Someone says, "I love you."
Someone says goodbye.
Six minutes can completely change the direction of your day.
Six hours can change the direction of your life.
Six days can introduce you to someone who ends up changing everything.
Six months can leave you wondering how you're somehow both the same person and a completely different one.
And six years?
Holy shift.
An entirely different life can fit inside six years.
Come to think of it, when I look back over the last six years alone, it's almost hard to believe it's the same lifetime. Books were written. Dreams that had quietly waited their turn finally stepped into the light. A nonprofit found its footing. Home of Misfits was born. Persephone rolled into my life and somehow became much more than a van. Mr. Finite marched in carrying his clipboard as if he'd been here all along. The Infinite Council quietly took their seats. My body threw me a few more plot twists, and somewhere in the middle of all of it, I stopped waiting for life to settle down before deciding to enjoy it.
Maybe that's what these sixty trips around the sun have really taught me.
Life never settles down.
It just keeps inviting us into the next adventure.
Sometimes that adventure looks exactly like we hoped.
Sometimes it looks absolutely nothing like we imagined.
And sometimes... if we're paying attention... we realize the detours ended up teaching us far more than the original destination ever could have.
Don't get me wrong. There are things I would absolutely do differently if I had the chance. There are words I wish I'd said sooner, fears I wish I'd ignored, and opportunities I wish I'd recognized while they were standing right in front of me instead of waving at me in the rearview mirror.
Then again...
If I changed too much, I might not end up here.
And honestly?
I kind of like it here.
Not because everything is perfect.
Good grief, not even close.
But because somewhere along the way I stopped chasing the idea that life was supposed to be perfect and started appreciating just how wonderfully, beautifully human it all is.
Messy.
Unexpected.
Heartbreaking.
Hilarious.
Hopeful.
Sometimes all before lunch.
Poor Mr. Finite probably isn't thrilled that I just turned sixty. He's undoubtedly standing over in the corner with his clipboard, trying to calculate exactly how much time we have left. Bless his little left-brain heart.
Meanwhile, I have a feeling the Infinite Council is just smiling.
Not because they know how many trips I have left around the sun.
But because they know something Mr. Finite is still learning.
This trip...
The one I'm on today...
Is the only one I've ever really had.
So here's to sixty.
Here's to every wrong turn, every right one, every plot twist, every belly laugh, every ugly cry, every rabbit hole, every "Holy Shift!" moment, and every human being who walked beside me for part of the journey.
Because if the first sixty years of childhood are the hardest...
I have a sneaking suspicion the next sixty are going to be a whole lot of fun.
What about you?
Funny thing about life...
None of us get the same story.
We don't get the same starting point, the same challenges, the same joys, or the same plot twists.
We each get our own wonderfully unique adventure.
But as long as we're still here, we're all holding the same pen.
We still get to write the next page.
That's exactly why the Happiness Matters Foundation exists.
We believe that as long as you draw a breath, you still carry a spark of hope within you. Sometimes that spark burns bright.
Sometimes life buries it beneath loss, fear, exhaustion, grief, or simply the weight of being human. But it's still there.
Our mission is simple.
We create opportunities where hope grows into action, possibilities begin to expand, and people remember that they don't have to navigate life's wild adventures alone.
So, if this little walk through sixty trips around the sun made you smile, reminded you of your own journey, or inspired you to keep writing your next chapter...
Would you help someone else keep writing theirs?
Whether you share this story, volunteer your time, become part of our growing community, or make a donation, you're helping another human being rediscover that spark of hope and take one more step forward.
Because the best birthday gift I could ask for isn't another candle on the cake.
It's knowing that together, we're helping someone else believe there's another page waiting to be written.
Shift happens...
Join the Adventure
