I remember when we moved into our house, I heard that the sellers were in their 40's and I thought, "God, that's old. I can't even imagine who I'll be in my 40's."
Now, with the benefit of a few decades of hard knocks, I feel like I'm just getting started.
And to that end, I'm learning to:
Make peace with the risings and the fallings.
It never fails that when I'm on the mountain top--a string of good parenting days, meaningful time with friends and family, a welcome change in weather, forward movement in my mediation practice, an engaged class of students--the other shoe drops--my kid tells me (not verbatim, but I get the drift) that I suck, I get insanely overwhelmed by my work load, someone gets sick, a financial set back occurs, bad news arrives-- uncertainty kicks in, and I find myself remembering that this is what it means to be human. There is no such thing as living infinitely in a place of joy or pain. It's an extraordinary mixture of both, that is largely unpredictable and many times unexplainable.
Never underestimate the power of the hustle.
I used to think that giving up my career made me a fool. How would I ever dive back into my field? What would the loss of a double income mean for our family? What was the point in amassing all of that education? A decade later, after spending all of my 30's at home, and now teaching at a university and being back at the mediation table, I can wholeheartedly say that the best people I know are the scrappy ones. They don't measure their worth in one long continuous line. They take chances. They trust their gut. They believe in their value and they morph and shape their skill sets to prioritize the people and experiences that matter most. They're the most interesting story tellers and the truest companions. And for my own experience, I have to say that they bring a level of empathy, adaptability and resiliency to the table that is second to none.
Relish the paradox of living.
There was a time when I believed that having the answers defined a good life. Now, I know differently. Living in the uncertainty of the questions, with a willingness to course correct when your heart and intuition tell you otherwise is what it means to be present. Non-judgemental, operating out of a space of love, not fear means that faith and trust are guiding, not a false sense of control. Trusting that it's okay not to know...and that someday, this time of wonderment, fork in the road, will pass and eventually, you'll understand why you are, where you are, is the only way to do this life thing.
Gratitude makes life purposeful.
I used to stress over ensuring that I mailed a thank-you card within a proper window of time when someone had given a gift or done something kind. Three kids later, I know that what matters isn't overt gestures...it's the little things...sending a text when someone comes to mind, telling them that you're thinking about the upcoming thing and that you're rooting for them and that you love them. It's noticing the unbelievable abundance of blessings that show up in buds on the trees now that it's spring time, a really strong cup of coffee before the house wakes up, the fact that your legs take you places and somehow, your heart decided to beat for you all night long while you were sleeping and that God gave you another shot at today. Saying thank you, nearly every moment, keeps you appreciating the bounty that surrounds you.
Comparison steals joy.
I've always yearned to be someone else. When I was younger, it was the girls who were cheerleaders or the ones who were Merit scholars. In my twenties, it was the girls who were married. In my thirties, it was the ones who bounced back to their pre-baby weight and lived on certain tree-lined streets and vacationed at all the right places. Now, in my forties, I'm too tired for that. I have a really good life. People who love me that I get to love back. A body that moves. A brain that thinks interesting stuff and friends who I can lean on and laugh with. On most days, that's enough. On the days when I look in the mirror and see extra jiggle, I have to remind myself that it's okay and this is the price of admission to the beauty of mid-life.
Change is the only constant.
God do I hate the devil I don't know. If it were up to me, we'd main line coffee all day, only stopping to eat sushi, drink stout, read the NY Times, listen to podcasts while we did yoga and solved the problems of the world. I get very antsy when it comes to doing new things...but the truth is, the birthplace of creativity, hope, opportunity and true engagement happen in the spaces where we are vulnerable, with hands outstretched saying, "I don't know, but I'm willing to try."
So, as I approach this new space...this 43rd year...I say...
Ode to
laughter and pain
hope and despair
worry and belief
adventure and momentum.
Ode to me
and the bounty of life,
and the change that will bring me to forks in the road.
May I rise to meet them, even in the falling.
May I live in the present, without the guarantees,
embracing the dichotomies and uncertainty.
And may I know, deep within that being me,
the real me
the 43 me
is enough.
