The only constant is change.

Age seven; fifty years ago.

In the past, I tended to make a big deal out of each birthday, taking time off from work and scheduling activities to help me celebrate. This year, I have a lot of unscheduled time off and nowhere to go, since everything is shut down due to quarantine, including my job.

Senior portrait, age seventeen.

2019 was yet another tumultuous year, with an extended period of unemployment for me and quite a bit of turmoil in the world. I started 2020 employed, and worked right up to the point that my job was put on hold due to Covid19. Through it all, I’ve tried to remain constant in my activities, exercising every morning and watching what I eat. The routine helps keep me focused. I’ve also managed to remain creative, consolidating many of my stories, essays, and poems into a single volume, and putting the finishing touches on another new story collection.

Progression of selfies, 2015-2020.

I find myself at the end of my fifty-seventh year on the planet, once again with much uncertainty for what the future holds. Life was far easier when I knew I could count on having a steady job, along with financial and political stability in the US, which now seems more and more unlikely. Still, things could be worse — and may yet become as such — so, for the time being, I remain cautious.

20 April 1963

Here’s to another trip around the sun.

2 thoughts on “Fifty-seven

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