Birthdays are altars.
They are not only markers of age, but of progress.
We can reflect back on the year or years, recalling who we were and how we saw the world the previous times we've done this.
We can understand ourselves today, and contrast versions of ourselves; past and present.
Was there any change?
Did we make any progress?
Did we digress against our intentions not to?
Birthdays are altars of stones we pile up in time. We cannot go back. We cannot change the altars we've laid. They stand permanent in memory as reminders that we had been there, and we have since forged ahead.
Indeed. I try to write in my journal on the eve of every birthday to reflect on the previous year.
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