Birthday Post #3

Happy Birthday To Me

Hello, fifty-four.

Hello, mid-fifties.

Hello, never thought I’d get here.

I’m filled with gratitude and wonder this evening as I watch the sun set on the longest day of the year and my fifty-fourth year. This weekend was so sweetly celebratory. I’m a lucky gal.

Where does it go from here? Who knows. If what’s behind me is any indication, it’ll go in many directions. Doesn’t it always? The world is so large and I want to see some more of it. I hardly travel anymore, which is something to love and also something to lament: staying put cements routine and stability—a wonderful thing—and roaming gives us variety of experience. To everything there is a season. But I’m glad I did a lot of roaming in my younger years. What I collected on all those journeys makes up who I am, and it has value.

I think every one of us is at least a little scared of AI. It’s a big topic at the museum, as you can imagine. But at least once a day, I come across a reason that AI will never replace human experience. I don’t think AI will ever be able to offer meaningful, deep references or a unique point of view. I don’t think AI will ever be able to be inspired. And without inspiration, everything becomes a stale water cracker, doesn’t it? I don’t know about y’all, but I want someone to be consumed, burned up by what they do, especially if it’s a creative thing they do. But everything is creative. Medicine is a practice, therefore it requires experimentation. Same for most occupations—without inspired interpretation or creation, everything falls flat.

Will AI ever know what it feels like to stand in front of Michelangelo’s David? No. It may be able to spit out an amalgamation of how it thinks it’s supposed to feel, but its eyes will never sparkle when talking about how stunningly perfect the right hand is. It’s mind won’t ever travel through a million gauzy memories and romanticize the trip to Florence to see it, either, nor will its heart feel a pang over the parts of the trip it doesn’t mention because the recollections are too personal and sweet.

That’s all to say, I’m glad I’m still here. And I hope to get to stay a good while longer! Though aging is not all hearts and butterflies, I’m grateful to be grateful for my experiences: my loves, my losses, my wins, my laughter, my tears, my stumbles, my swaggers. They weave a beautiful story.

If I leave this world today, let it be known that I was well-loved.

Peace. Love.

Allison