I finally forgot my age

Today is my birthday, and I finally forgot how old I am.

Forgetting my age is not a warning sign – it’s a relief. For most of my life I have kept too close a watch on that number, and measured my accomplishments against it, often disappointed in myself.

For example, when I was a young record producer, I measured how great my creations were against my heroes’ and despaired at what they had done at my age.

“Nigel Godrich was only 25 when he made OK Computer?! Why don’t my mixes sound that good??? Wahhhh” – me

Finally, slowly…this measuring exhausted itself.

My Buddhist friend Michael Carroll likes to say “Don’t achieve anything – express it.” That has always annoyed me.

But after many years of meditation and study, I am finally understanding what he means, which is the Buddhist approach of expression instead of accomplishment.

First you focus on how you see the world, then stabilize that view, and last is how you conduct yourself in the world…what you do.

Now, being alive longer is a chance to refine my expression as a human being, which comes from a much larger view than tallying accomplishments.

There’s a gravestone in Connecticut for my friend who died when he was 31. He was one of my closest friends growing up, and my first friend who died young. On most of my birthdays, I think about him, and get a little angry that he’s not alive anymore, and feel surprised and lucky that I am.

I have friends who do not like getting old, but I know it’s a privilege.