#236 It’s my birthday …

Today is the day, it’s my birthday. But what is so special about it anyways? I mean, for sure, getting some presents is not the worst thing in the world, to be honest. But as we grow older, the importance of such a day starts to decrease heavily. I mean, I’m just getting 25 and not 78, but already I do not see the point in this event any longer. And actually, it rises that one particular question in me all the time.

Why do we even celebrate that?

If you would know me for quite some time, you know that I am questioning everything I am doing. Therefore, let’s do that today, it will be fun!

Why do we celebrate our birthday?

If a random person comes up to you on the street or in a busy shopping mall and would ask you about your age, what do you answer? You answer with your age, which is counted by the wide spread method of starting with zero at the date of your birth. Which is of course your birthday, but sure, you already know that one.

The question is, is that statement really accurate? Is that your real age? I mean, I have no clue about the pregnancy of your mother and stuff and I am definitely not an expert in that field, but from the perspective of an engineer, it looks like this procedure is just terribly wrong. I have existed on this world far before that. I was somewhere in the belly of my mother. Trying to grow and get stronger. Well, while I still try to grow and get stronger these days, my hearth was already there back in the old and dark days, already beating. My brain, somehow must did the same thing. Therefore, it doesn’t look like my physical age is really the age I am celebrating today. It fells just wrong.

But the funny thing about this, nobody cares. Not even in the slightest of ways. People have other things to care about. The rent, the next holiday, the next party. No-one cares about this thing I am currently thinking about. And for sure, call me what you want, but this is actually a pretty damn good exercise to get back on the ground. To think about everything you are doing, because most of the time, we are doing things not because we know why, or we care about them, but because others are doing that as well. They show us how to do it and we simply copy that. I came on this world with nothing but my little body. Everything I know, ignoring some instincts and other stuff I do not want to mention right now, was coming from an outside source. Therefore, my environment taught me most of the things I know these days and shaped me to whom I have become. And for sure, celebrating my birthday is one of these things.

Can you imagine to walk into your office, or to your colleagues and telling them about this? That your physical age is much older and you therefore don’t want to celebrate your birthday? They will at least think you have a mental issue. They may, depending on your age, will think you must have a midlife crisis or something like that and get over with it, but I definitely do not have such a thing. I am that serious. But for sure, don’t get me wrong on this.

Your birthday is in fact an important day, because that was the day you started to be on your own. I mean in a kind of an early access beta version of course. You had limited amounts of control over your body functions, and generally speaking, not many functions were already unlooked, but your were kind of there, on your own, without the comfort and safety of your mothers belly. I mean, without having my own kids, I can not even assume how great it must feel to be able to hold that little thing in your hands that is, at least to a certain part something you created. That must be the best thing in the world and for sure, you should celebrate that. For the sake of your mothers pain, for the sake of what your parents went through to get you to whom you have become.

But the connection to the age is just something that really bothers me here. Can you believe it? I needed to wait far longer to be able to get my driver license then it was physically necessary. Because for sure, my body was already 18 years old way before my birthday! That was definitely unfair!

While some people want to get out as fast as possible and can not wait to see the world, others stay inside the cosy place for a bit longer, causing some headaches in the brains of their parents and actually put the age measuring procedure in a very difficult position, because that is of course not a part of the equation either. The time of you being in the belly of your mother is not a part of the equation at all. It just feels like someone has invest some thoughts in it, but that wasn’t the end of the rainbow. There are still some things not totally clear to me, but nobody seems to care. Saving the environment or preventing a speed limit on the German Autobahn seems to be the better investment of our valuable time these days.


Celebrating the birthday for the sake of the day you were born seems to be fine, but the connection to your age seems to be just terribly wrong.

It feels like you wouldn’t count the first 1500 km’s of a new car, where you are driving it in and would wait until the driving-in phase is completed to start counting the miles and the age of the car. Nobody would do or accept that, right? And even if someone would try, there is no chance that you would get away with that. But why are we doing that with our age and no-one cares? That seems to be funny. All these years I did not invested a single thought about that, but today, it feels like we are even more stupid than I thought we are.

Well, as always in life, if no-one complains, you can basically do it. Therefore, I guess it’s the best solution for everyone. But please be aware about the fact, that actually, you are much much older than you think you are! 🥳 Have a good one!

See you next time!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: