Turning 50
If you’re going through a hard time, you might want to leave this one for later. Nothing worse than reading someone else’s processing journey when you are mired in the ugly. You do what’s compassionate for you.
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Every year around my birthday, I contemplate my life over the last year. This year because it’s a decade birthday, I find myself contemplating life over the last decade looking back to who I was at 40 and who I want to be at 60. The exercise is designed not to create the future, but to create some subconscious markers when I wander off path…guardrails so to speak.
Looking back, my 40s were defined about embracing my creative side, doing away with all those social niceties which drain my energy (parties, inauthentic people), speaking my truth, and instead of attempting to form a new identity over the faulty one, just accepting me, faults and all.
It has been freeing. I apologize less, am silly more, embarrass myself more, ask people more vulnerable questions, have deeper conversations, and try to inject an element of fun into everything I do.
I am also still unbelievably petty, nurse old wounds, hold grudges, found my anger, have an extraordinarily thin skin, and think there are some resentments I will hold forever.
***
This last year of 40 has been a hard one. It’s like the residual of my identities that I have worn like a banner to my mattering are being hammered away from the outside in.
And life has been hard. I’m not going to lie. In the last few months, I have found myself being dismantled in some expected and unexpected ways:
A potential friend lied to me about a minor issue which has left me angrier than I think it should.
I have been turned down for jobs.
One of my young adults informed me of my every parenting mistake and told me in no uncertain turns of how I contributed to their pain.
An ex-friend who I will always love dearly died.
Family members are struggling with serious unknown illnesses and consequently mental health issues and vice versa.
We are struggling with putting weight on our guinea pig, Georgia, and are losing the battle.
And the list goes on.
The future feels uncertain.
***
But on the other side of the coin, I am reminded:
I am blessed to have people in my life who believe in my strength and power and will speak truth even if I don’t like to hear it.
My potential is not defined by gatekeepers and what wonderful people I have in my life who get angry at those gatekeepers, believe in my potential, and then send me more job postings.
I am capable of unconditional love. I sat in the storm and felt the pain, but not my own. I honored everyone’s right to their viewpoint. I became love in a moment that tore into one of the pillars of my identity. My ego was bruised and battered, still is, and in that moment, I surprised myself.
Grief is rarely uncomplicated and growing older is a gift.
My family members are strong people who continually amaze me with their resilience and how no matter how serious, we still can manage to laugh even if it’s at my expense.
That when it comes to the welfare of our animals, it’s a we, not a me, scenario. When a pet struggles, it’s all hands on deck with everyone contributing in their own way.
The future still feels uncertain but not dark…just varying shades of grey tinged with gold.
***
This year I started weight training in the summer. I wanted to feel strong for 50, and it has surpassed all my expectations. I forgot how much I love that ache in my muscles from physical effort not from just getting out of bed. I realized that even though I have never been a sweaty person that I love that bead of sweat the runs down the side of my face. I love that exercises I thought I would hate have become my favorite power poses. It’s not the physical; though I would be lying if I didn’t say that I love the fact loose skin floating in the breeze doesn’t swing quite so easily…takes a bigger gust. It’s the actionable mental game of weight training...the reminder that I’m stronger than I think I am and that strength and resilience are built slowly over time.
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We are not promised an easy life. We are not promised a happy life. We are not promised financial security. We are not promised that our kids will think we are awesome. We are not promised that our adored pets will pass beautifully in their sleep.
We have been gifted a life…that’s it.
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I read recently about a woman who was grateful for her cancer journey in that her real facing of death made it possible for her to whittle down what was truly important to her.
I would really prefer not to brush with death in order to figure out what is important to me. Lucky for me, my biggest source of whittling down the important is to listen to those ahead of me on the wisdom journey. Some of the things to which I aspire are to:
Elevate others in simple ways.
Love solitude not fear it.
Be open hearted.
Curate the people who have access to your inner circle.
Marinate in contentment and gratitude.
Create.
Laugh, especially when it’s inappropriate and at my expense.
***
So my markers for the next decade are:
Be present more. Right now, there are the yellows, reds, and oranges of autumn leaves outside my window wet with the steady drizzle and an always optimistic German Shepherd with big hopeful eyes to share a chicken ball with. It’s the shortest path to peace, contentment and gratitude (I’m in love with those words right now).
Embrace the world as it is.
Get a tattoo.
***
At 50, I began to know who I was. It was like waking up to myself.
- Maya Angelou
the struggle is real and as we age it becomes more intense..the majority of our time here is behind us..the future ahead of us becomes less and less. You are right..life is just life, it is not meant to be happy or sad, it is just life. But it is how we meet life, struggle thru or celebrate on various up and down days that speaks to our growth.