It is interesting to me that we pay quite a bit of attention to the time each of us is born...we play with astrological signs of the zodiac or Chinese year of the dragon or horse or pig, and some cultures give babies names according to the day of the week of the child's birth. All of this makes sense to some degree and is fine and well. But there are two things that I sometimes ponder...one is the time of our conception..wouldn't that be important too? And, of course, the two dates are related, at least to a degree, because the human baby grows about nine months in the womb before birth. But I sometimes think whether or not I was conceived in joy or at the end (or beginning) of a vacation and what, if any, difference the time of year might have made in my development before birth.
I also think at times, particularly at the beginning of the new year, about the fact that one of the days through which I passed over the past year, is the pre-anniversary of the day I will die. Some of us (I for one) celebrate our birthdays with great joy, but each year we also pass (unknowingly) through what will be at some point the date of our death. I don't say this to be morbid but rather I think it helps to appreciate life when we truly know it is finite.