Today is my birthday. Every year this is a special day although this time it is even more special, the big five. I am sure my mum will call me soon this morning, and one more time she will ask me how old I am, because she views me as a child. Lots of friends will call me too, other will write in facebook or will send me whatsapp, and it is probable that someone forgets the date. This is one of those days I feel important, and above all I feel beloved, and reflected in all that surround me
This is a good time to stop for a moment and think about my life, past and future. Experiences I have had; my joys and failures; projects started and never finished, or those that did not end as I expected or planed; people I have met and that have enriched my life, some of them disappeared while other are still close to me.
But if it is true that cycles life have twelve years, I am living the last stage when I have to ?sing my song?, as it is said by Wayne Dyer, just not to end up as Ivan Ilich, a character created by Leon Tolstoi who on his dead bed asked to himself if all his live was wrong. So looking forward into my future, where am I going to? I am not short of dreams, projects and plans, and one of them that inspire me is keeping on studying English. Why and what, I am not sure, however I am sure it will be useful in the future.
Who am I? This is another question that comes up today. I am sure I am not my reputation, my degrees, not even I identify with my job; I am not my joys or my difficulties, not even the labels people put on me.? I remain the girl who plays with dolls, entrusted and innocent, dreamer and loving. This is what I see when looking at the mirror, beyond grey hair and wrinkles.
I am this girl, and I will sing my son, being sure that much still remain to be felt.
( This post is written as if it were my diary, it is the most personal I have published)
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