Today is the 56th anniversary of the day I came into this body. As we commonly say it, I am 56 years old. But the way we commonly say it is so wrong. My birth was no more my beginning than my death will be my end.
About two weeks ago I was sitting in meditation listening to a song called Long Time Sun when it hit me that as old as I think the sun is, I am older. I existed before time began. I will exist long after the sun burns out. I am ageless/timeless.
I used to look at the trees and get jealous. i planted trees in my backyard 20 years ago. I knew at the time those trees would outlive me. My house would be here long after I was dead. Most of the things I “own” will exist longer than me, if I think of myself as my body, which I did. And that made me sad.
What’s really wild is I might think my body is 56 years old, but in reality there isn’t a molecule in my body that was present at the time I was born. So, what does it mean when I say I’m 56 years old? Not much. Not even my body is 56 years old.
So, today as I contemplate my 56 trips around the sun, in this meat covered skeleton, I appreciate the ride, I’m grateful to my body for being my vehicle, and I continue to remember who I truly am.