Milestone birthdays are natural benchmarks. Today I completed my 40th year of life, and I am amazed every day by how lucky I've been.
Two weeks ago 11 people, amazing friends and family, travelled to New Orleans to celebrate my birthday. If any of them had been less than extraordinary the trip would have been okay. But these people, who all had not met each other before, made the trip legendary. I don't know what I could have possibly done in my life to know such a rich variety of incredible people, but whatever I did must have been good.
Tonight is the New York party, the celebration on the day itself. Again I get to see even more old friends, and I'm steeled against nostalgia and tears as people I have not seen in years will make an appearance.
What is my life at 40? The stuff dreams are made of. I live in the most amazing city on the planet. I have a job I love. I have my health. I have this incredible stable of friends. Heck, I'm even seeing someone I like. (That in my world is a bonus.)
How can I not be grateful for this life? Sure there have been obstacles to my health and happiness, but not enough to actually prevent me from getting where I needed to be with a little work. And when taking it all in perspective a little effort was well worth it.
I could probably write more, but really it is simple. At 40 I'm more successful than I ever could have dreamed as a little girl growing up outside of Detroit. And life is good.
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