I have been writing these short pieces for two hundred days. In cyberspace this is cause for a celebration though I am pretty sure in the wider world where people think a little more clearly it is probably cause for nothing. I am often very tired when I write as my mother has bad nights and as I write this at nearly five a.m. in the morning after a whole night of shouting I am not even thinking very clearly.
Celebrations are a delightful thing and of course we enjoy them; an excuse to gather, dance and sing and (I think) sadly drink. Why anyone would enjoy altering their mental state beats me but then I have a lot of natural euphoria that probably makes me absurd.
Countries use celebrations to cement the national identity, and anything that brings people together (most notably sport) is appropriated as an excuse for low level nationalist sentiment. Now I am smiling so far my idea of celebrations is awful!
Anniversaries are times to promote all kinds of things from birthdays to world peace. I am quite fond of celebrating the lives of important thinkers, but I find the celebrating of changes in one’s own life a little strange but then I am not that ego centric and as I will never retire from anything I have no great life changes to celebrate.
I think every morning a celebration. Every breath a wonder. Many times we forget that perhaps the Universe celebrates us.