Some people dread Valentine’s Day, I dread my birthday. Unlike holidays that celebrate achievement (getting your family together is an achievement) or the memory of a renowned individual, birthdays celebrate the passage of time (like New Year’s, but more personal). I think most people after a certain age generally dread their birthdays- think of all the cards that talk about being “over the hill,” “older than sand,” “almost old enough to reach diamond status.” To be sure, I love gatherings of friends and family celebrating good health (especially mine) and receiving gifts, but a birthday is different because it is a particular celebration of your age. A good friend of mine recently told me, “Most people after 22 years of age are drinking for altogether different reasons than the year before. I think most people know there isn’t much to celebrate after that.” I am not as pessimistic, but it brings the issue of another year of my life gone wondering what more I could have achieved or gotten done. Perhaps I have been conditioned because I never had an extravagant party or perhaps I didn’t want people to spend money on gifts (”mom, don’t spend that money on a cake, I’m just happy that you remembered”)… No, I enjoyed my birthdays- getting older meant more freedom (and sometimes great cake). As I became older though (sometimes much faster than my peers), I’ve become more aware of my mortality. I think Steve Jobs says it best: There comes a point in someone’s life when they become aware of the finite amount of time they have on Earth and it’s both empowering and disempowering. It’s a very strong motivator, as Steve Jobs says. At the same time, it’s dreadfully scary to know that year (or set of years) has gone by (and so quickly!). I think that’s why New Year’s has some of the same characteristics. I’m like most people who have a mix of emotions on their birthday- like the movie About Schmidt-, but I don’t think the courage/dread will ever go away when April 28 rolls around.