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While sixty felt momentous last year, sixty-one feels like just another day. Yes, there are cards and tons of well-wishers on social media and trust me, it all reminds me of how many connections I have out there.

Today, I am at the National Archives, part of a week-long professional development class on project-based research. It’s a cool place to be at but does somewhat isolate me from the rest of the world. Later, Deb and I will be at City Winery in Washington, D.C. seeing one of my favorite songwriters, Lori McKenna, perform so that’ll be a celebration.

Over the last year or so, though, endings keep popping up. I’vewatched friends lose spouses or parents. Peers are either retiring early ormaking plans because suddenly it’s a visible light at the end of the tunnel. We’rewatching our elder generation grow smaller while those still here deal with aging.


I’ve also watched some decide they’re content with things asthey are and stop learning new tools and tech and pride myself in the constantdesire to keep doing better. I continue to work on my teaching and look for thereturn of the muse so I can strive to become a better writer.

Last year, I lamented that I am suddenly being far moreselective about what I am watching and reading. There was a study over the lastyear that showed that having too many books to read is a good thing so I take comfortin that as I gaze at the two shelves of print books waiting for my attention,not at all counting the Kindle files or Want to Read list at Goodreads.

Thanks to steadily visiting all the doctors, I am inreasonable health. Like many my age, I don’t sleep through the night and wakeup not always feeling rested. There have been a few more aches and pains and todeal with that, my loving wife, who seems to want me to stick around, hasconvinced me to take up yoga. For the last three weeks, I have been going totwice-a-week classes at our community center. Thankfully, the teacher is very encouragingand understands this is a process. I jealously watch her and the others manageto stretch and reach places that I can only dream about. Some day I may be ableto reach my toes (yes, I have been that stiff).

It’s a day for reflection and celebration. On balance, I’dsay all is well.

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