Turning 34

Today is the last day of my 33rd year.

Tomorrow I turn 34.

It’s not a significant “milestone” birthday in the mainstream celebration of things.  Although, I suppose it could be called the “I’m halfway to the average age of retirement” birthday.  (I joked with a friend about this today when she asked why I wasn’t throwing myself a party; in hindsight, that would have been a pretty hilarious party theme.)

While this isn’t 16, 21, 30 — or even a “double sweet 16” (how I celebrated my 32nd birthday) — turning 34 will be a milestone because this past year has been so incredible.

When I turn 34 — in an hour — I will be celebrating the amazing journey that was year 33.

This has been a wonderful year.  One where I sampled Europe’s best Christmas markets with my mother.  Where I studied yoga with Shiva Rea in Santorini.  Where I road tripped solo through Sedona, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons.  Where I invested nearly 500 hours in yoga teacher training and philosophy.

And woven throughout all of the travels, the work accomplishments and frustrations, the yoga trainings, the special moments with family and friends … was something even more precious and powerful: a deepening relationship with my true spirit, my true self.

Yes, it’s been a mystical year.  Appropriate, given 33 is made up of the most mystical number, twice: 3.  It’s been a year of seeking and exploring and questioning and discovering.  Not just of the world around me.  But of the amazing world that lies within.

As I turn 34, I realize that this is where the really significant and awesome exploration happens — and will continue to happen.

Although, I wouldn’t mind making it back to India and traveling onward to Nepal and Bhutan this year, too.  My wanderlust and zest for outward exploration certainly hasn’t fizzled, after all.

What will 34 bring?

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