Belated happy birthday! I like that you are content at whatever age you are. Too many seem to regret aging, wishing they could go back to a time that was not as perfect as they remember it to be. Age is just a number. You are as old as you feel you are.
I do not read poetry as a rule. (I know, my loss.) I’m not familiar with the works of Philip Larkin, but now I’m prompted to get a book of his poetry. Thank you.
I came across a posting by someone, & thought it worth remembering: The cemetery is filled with people who wish they could have your crappy day.
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
-------
That's where the long slide leads. How we get there is a matter of choices and chance.
Choices and chance have gotten YOU to 49, so Happy Birthday, Whippersnapper! I'm 20 years past you and I must say (selfishly) I'm so glad you've been here for these past few strange ones. I always feel better after reading you
I’ve not been exposed to Larkin previously, but I do believe I will take some of my money from the second floor and get me some Larkin poetry. He uses pretty understated language but packs a whallop. I’m of a similar age (just turned 51) so these ideas resonate with me as well. Congrats on another successful orbit Greg 🪐🚀
I think I mentioned before that I wrote a poem and send it to Larkin and he sent me a letter back on blue parchment. It was dated Christmas Eve, and he sent it from the library in Hull, England where he worked. I found it so sad that he was spending his Christmas Eve working in the library. He liked the poem; thanked me. Somewhere during my many moves in NYC, this note got lost. I will be devastated forever! I’m so happy you wrote about Larkin again. Very poignant. Happy birthday, Greg, and many more!
I must be the oldest member of your substack community, but being just a wee bit "something" I will not reveal here the magic number of my years! Suffice it to say, with each subsequent birthday leading to that great "wherever," I treasure every moment of being alive. For me, that has nothing to do with acquiring or spending money. I am drowning amid the "stuff" of all those shallow years when money did mean something. I feel for whoever has to deal with it all when I'm gone. Sometimes, if a person sees something in my home that appeals to them, I just give it to them. One less piece of stuff to worry about or dust. And as with money, you can't take "stuff" with you!
My mother used to say when she was of sound mind, that she had more friends and family in heaven than on earth. Now, I fully understand what she means. This pandemic only increased my reverence for shared living experiences, shared love, the absolute beauty of the planet, and the urgency to do something to keep it beautiful and to keep healthy ALL of those who live on it now and those who will come.
Hope your birthday was fun. This quote reminds me of you.
. "There is a beautiful thing inside you that is thousands of years old. Too old to be captured in poems. Too old to be loved by everyone. But loved so very deeply by a chosen few."
Larkin gets it: Life is about Time & Money. Yet these only matter to the Living folks -- afterwards they won't matter anymore
I recently turned 56 contemplating Impermanence & the Great Awakening that remains undisclosed to me. Peace
Belated happy birthday! I like that you are content at whatever age you are. Too many seem to regret aging, wishing they could go back to a time that was not as perfect as they remember it to be. Age is just a number. You are as old as you feel you are.
I do not read poetry as a rule. (I know, my loss.) I’m not familiar with the works of Philip Larkin, but now I’m prompted to get a book of his poetry. Thank you.
I came across a posting by someone, & thought it worth remembering: The cemetery is filled with people who wish they could have your crappy day.
I wish you Many Happy Returns of the day.
I like the closing stanza of High Windows :
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
-------
That's where the long slide leads. How we get there is a matter of choices and chance.
Choices and chance have gotten YOU to 49, so Happy Birthday, Whippersnapper! I'm 20 years past you and I must say (selfishly) I'm so glad you've been here for these past few strange ones. I always feel better after reading you
Yep. That last line saves it all. Ironic, isn’t it?
I’ve not been exposed to Larkin previously, but I do believe I will take some of my money from the second floor and get me some Larkin poetry. He uses pretty understated language but packs a whallop. I’m of a similar age (just turned 51) so these ideas resonate with me as well. Congrats on another successful orbit Greg 🪐🚀
I think I mentioned before that I wrote a poem and send it to Larkin and he sent me a letter back on blue parchment. It was dated Christmas Eve, and he sent it from the library in Hull, England where he worked. I found it so sad that he was spending his Christmas Eve working in the library. He liked the poem; thanked me. Somewhere during my many moves in NYC, this note got lost. I will be devastated forever! I’m so happy you wrote about Larkin again. Very poignant. Happy birthday, Greg, and many more!
Wonderful! Happy birthday.
Happy Birthday!
Happy birthday!
I must be the oldest member of your substack community, but being just a wee bit "something" I will not reveal here the magic number of my years! Suffice it to say, with each subsequent birthday leading to that great "wherever," I treasure every moment of being alive. For me, that has nothing to do with acquiring or spending money. I am drowning amid the "stuff" of all those shallow years when money did mean something. I feel for whoever has to deal with it all when I'm gone. Sometimes, if a person sees something in my home that appeals to them, I just give it to them. One less piece of stuff to worry about or dust. And as with money, you can't take "stuff" with you!
My mother used to say when she was of sound mind, that she had more friends and family in heaven than on earth. Now, I fully understand what she means. This pandemic only increased my reverence for shared living experiences, shared love, the absolute beauty of the planet, and the urgency to do something to keep it beautiful and to keep healthy ALL of those who live on it now and those who will come.
Happy Birthday, my friend.
Happy Birthday Greg
Hope your birthday was fun. This quote reminds me of you.
. "There is a beautiful thing inside you that is thousands of years old. Too old to be captured in poems. Too old to be loved by everyone. But loved so very deeply by a chosen few."
- Nikita Gill.
I am late with the birthday wishes. Happy 49th from this 70 year old who still likes to think of herself as being young!
Congrats on another successful voyage around the sun!
Happy birthday Greg. I hope you had a worthy celebration. And thank you for the gifts you give us with each newsletter