44

As a kid who idolized George “The Iceman” Gervin, 44 was my favorite number growing up. Decades later, it doesn’t quite hold the same luster with my birth odometer hitting the double quad today. Turning 40 wasn’t all that big a deal to me, and I figured I wouldn’t actually dread another birthday until the heinous “Big 5-0.”

And while I didn’t dread turning 44, I do feel a little introspective today.  There are some pretty major life changes taking place for me these days – none of which are related to age.  I haven’t really gone into details about these changes, and won’t be specific about them now, but suffice it to say these events (which remain ongoing for at least the forseeable future) have me thinking a lot about my life.

It may be presumptuous for me to look at this as the mid-point of my life, as making it to 88 seems like a bit of a long shot, but I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I have (and haven’t) accomplished during the past 44 years – as well as all of the mistakes I’ve made.

Nobody’s perfect, and many of us are much closer to the opposite end of the spectrum, but I still aspire to become a better person.  Many times it’s so easy to be weighed down by regret, which does nothing but impede self-improvement.  I think I will dedicate my 44th year to overcoming regret and doing everything possible to be a better person for however many years I have left – whether it’s another 4 or 44.

Until then, thanks to everyone who has passed along birthday well-wishes.  This year, they really have meant more to me than ever.