Three Years

As a general rule, I avoid anniversaries. It focuses far too much attention on mindless accounting of the years as if the only thing relevant were the seconds of something's existence. That really reduces it all down, doesn't it? Devoting an entire day celebrating the random statistic of how often the planet has revolved around the Sun since you were born, met, engaged, married, died, fought in 'Nam, graduated high school, etc.

For me, more importance should be placed on the quality of the experience during the time which you are blessed (or cursed, damn high school) with the privilege of living it.

Which do you think you would enjoy more, a heavenly marriage which you've forgotten how it all began, or a strained one under the Sword of Damocles' Divorce but which you know the exact amount of time you've been bound to each other?

Does it really matter the precision with which I can recall long ago it was, if I remember how good that time was? Or if I work instead towards bettering it? Refining it? Finding new and exciting ways to peel an onion?

Which is why I don't particularly care for 'rezzdays'. Or real life birthdays, for that matter (which I actually find it rather morbid in that it counts the miracle of each year you manage to simply survive, how fun). It should not matter how long you've graced the grid. The real question is, have you enjoyed yourself? Did you have fun? Have your friends had fun? Have you made a positive impact in the Second Life world around you? Have you lived? To me, these are more important.

My rezzday is coming up in November, little more than three weeks away. I will have been in Second Life for three years. I think the math is that one RL year is 6 SL years, so I will turn 18 in SL time. And yet, it hasn't felt like it has been that long. I, for honesty's sake, did not even realize I was about to turn three until I read Peter's post on his own rezzday.

I look over my screenshot folder (which is massive) and I can't believe the things I managed to limp out of and witness and enjoy and people I've encountered. Even looking over this blog, I cannot help but laugh at my petty worries all that time ago and all the silly things I loved to write. All the numerous times I enjoyed poking Torley with a stick (I was tempted to put a counter up on the sidebar ticking off the number of times I bashed him, his actions, or his philosophy) and Jurin who prodded me like an editor-in-chief to write write write. And certainly, there are no better co-writers than Winter and Torvald.

To me, all of that is far far more important than spending an entire day in revelry to a simple countdown (countup?).

The same goes for my real life birthday (which, if you're curious, is about a month after my rezzday). I am doing what I want to, doing what I love. I have good friends and good family (even if they're a bit odd). I've done many fun things, half of which are illegal and likely to get one killed/maimed (I kid! Kidding!). I count myself extremely fortunate that in this increasingly dreary and impoverished world that I have never known lack of money or love.

Not that everything is peaches and cream with cherry soda. Friends and family have died. I've made some rather poor decisions and suffer from some rather debilitating flaws, or so I'm told. I have the growing feeling I don't have a clue what I'm doing. I have my health problems (although even in that I count myself lucky).

Does it really matter at all that this has spanned 22 years? Why is there a need for numbers?

I count every day as cause for celebration.