45. It's one of those numbers that makes you feel different in your skin. Today, at 3:37am, I am turning forty five. (why is it not fourty but forty?) I'm slipping into this birthday like it's a comfortable suit I've worn before and even left a mint in the pocket. It feels familiar to me. All of 44 I kept thinking about 45. How it put me on the top of the peak and now 50 is just a rock scramble downhill. I've always been like that though. Thinking about the age before I even get there. This month I've felt quiet. I didn't plan on not recording an astrology forecast, and I apologize to any of you who were left waiting. I just... didn't do it. Didn't feel like it. The truth is I've had one hell of a spring, personally, and I think the energetic wall has finally trapped me under its weight. And honestly, maybe some of it was the idea of turning 45 and how I thought when I was younger, that people who were that old, had it all figured out. How many times did I say “it will be better next week” only to realize I'd been saying it for months... I know I certainly don't have it all figured out and in fact I feel most days like I have next to nothing figured out. I know I'm not a morning person unless it's vacation. I know I sense and feel things that are difficult to explain to others. I know I love to help people discover the hidden truths about themselves they've forgotten. I know life has so much more to teach me and I almost feel like I'm ready. Maybe next week...