Honoring 48 Years & Another on the Horizon!

My mind woke me early today. Thoughts in my head became prolific, then spun like whirling dervishes, chattering impishly in the morning’s wee hours. These thoughts are self-aware. They are intentionally distracting. They are purposefully devious, playful, and very much challenging to my circadian rhythm. Their energy matches the strong gusts of wind that causes palm trees outside my window to lean precariously, mixing a new set of worries (“is it going to hit the house?”) in with my already full head. My thoughts have resilience. I am impressed. They are persistent and they have something to tell me.

It is Thanksgiving morning and I am working in our office as I listen to my husband make pancakes for our daughter in the kitchen. He has just appeared with a bowl of strawberries, washed and cut up for me to snack on. He knows I may be in here a while. 

I am working today because the marketing content for December that I had planned on completing a week ago, is not done. My monthly newsletter is frustratingly blank. And this blog has been started, half-written, and abandoned four times and counting. Grr. Arrg.

Last month I felt so inspired. The words poured from my head, cascading down my arms and dripping off my fingertips, through the keyboard, and onto the google doc, ready to be shared with the world. This month, the sentences feel choppy. The memory of the creative flow that embraced me six weeks ago collides with my current mood, which I can best describe as reluctantly sporadic. But I have been here before. I know the creative process is both beautiful and elusive. She’s like a cat. The more you try to get her to like you, the more she will turn her back. But I have a deadline. I have to attract that cat. I sip my coffee and take a deep breath. I ask myself silently, “What is wanting to be shared?”

Great question. Answer: silence.

As I sit writing today, I am one week from my 48th birthday. Though not really a milestone number, this year feels strangely significant. If I am to be blessed in this lifetime to live to 96, I am one week out from halfway there. Holy shit. 

This leads me to do some pretty deep digging. I am feeling reflective, with a healthy mix of whimsical and some pretty heavy melancholy undertones. I am taking stock. I am pondering my place and my voice. I am asking myself if I am honoring this life with my best. I am wondering if, when all is said and done, will I look back and feel proud. Will I look back and see that I made an impact that helped people? Does my life matter? 

I sit here at my desk, staring at words on the screen, cursor blinking, my mind filled with unusable thoughts. Oona’s contagious giggles reach through the wall to tickle my ears. She and John are laughing together. I want to join them. It is a holiday after all, but I feel like I am on the verge of discovery. If I stop now I might miss it… What is it that I am feeling? Where is my intuition trying to lead me?

As I gaze over the 48-year-old fence into the second half of my life, what is giving me pause?

This last year has been a rough ride. Lots of coming head to head with my old belief systems. Lots of loss. Lots of letting go mixed with a lot of joy. I feel slightly unstable. Not in a dangerous or self-destructive way. More in the way of an empty mug just drained of its latte. I am creating a new life, supported by the load-bearing walls of past experience, but not yet filled with new furnishings. No wonder I have been driven to shop lately. I have been looking for something to fill the void.

John just brought me a bagel. That’s one way to fill empty space. He gets me.

I am reminded of a Carl Jung quote that said, “The first half of life is devoted to forming a healthy ego, the second half is going inward and letting go of it.” I am finding this to be incredibly true. The first part of my life was spent absorbing information and acting based on what I’d learned, most of it unconscious. On my fortieth birthday, I started the process of actively questioning what I had learned. And now nearly 8 years later, I acknowledge the hard work I have put into releasing all the stuff that I no longer resonate with. 

But I am also aware that even after years of self-reflection and purpose-driven release, my self-work isn’t done. I am a human living in the physical world. And it’s the nature of the physical world to fill empty spaces. A void creates a vacuum. It’s not enough just to release. Our human brains, when faced with a vacant space, will act to replace the emptiness.  And if we aren’t super-mindful about what’s going back in, we are likely to fill back up with a substitute that looks frighteningly familiar to what we dumped in the first place. This can be frustrating. How many times have I said, “I thought I was done with this!” when confronted with an old belief on replay? The universe is masterful. It presents us with opportunity after opportunity to up our game.

So here I am, nearly 48. And the question has now evolved. “What will I choose to fill myself with? Who am I now?” Will I start a new business? Will I focus more deeply on my home life, on my daughter? Will I learn Spanish and try the guitar again? Who am I now, and what is it I want to share?

Who am I?

Who am I?

Who am I? Cursor blinks…

Oh mind of mine, the questions you present with at 4 am! 

You now have my attention. Let’s do this. 

I am….

I am a lover of dance, art, music, trees, puppies, and babies. I love my husband and my family, both blood and chosen. I feel like my life began anew when I had my daughter. I love a clean spacious kitchen, and I color-coordinate my closet. I may be a bit of a control freak. I am working on it.

I am a human who loves other humans, but outside of my close friends, only in small doses. 

I am a woman who loves the ocean, the mountains, the wide open spaces, and silent snowy canyons. I am constantly overwhelmed by the beauty of mother nature. I seek out trees to hug. I love to travel. Big cities, though fun for a few days, no longer suit me.

I am equal parts living in the present, formed by my past, and focused on creating my future. 

I am dark and light. I am fury and soft forgiveness. I am tears and screams followed by calm waters.

I believe in peace. I believe we are all connected. I trust in the process. And I feel fear daily.

I know that my worth is more than my body, and I still want to feel pretty. I secretly wish for a smaller number on the bathroom scale and also know that that number is meaningless.

I am both pragmatic and deeply spiritual. My crystals can coexist with the big bang theory.

I alternate between feeling way too young and way too old. I am still learning to be comfortable in my own skin.

When it comes to belief systems, I choose to remain unaffiliated. I believe when it comes to faith, as long as your belief doesn’t hurt anyone, we all get to be right.

I am choosing to exempt myself from what I feel is an outdated concept, of right vs. wrong.

I am a walking piece of stardust, tart cherry pie, and musty earth. 

I am a mixture of equal parts maiden, mother, and crone.

I am a fully grown woman who took forty years to decide that she would no longer compromise her values or muzzle her voice to fit in.

I am happy to burn bridges if it creates more room for the river to flow. Do not worry, I always give plenty of notice to get out of the way.

I am both wise and naive.

I am sensitive. I cry a lot. Yes, I am aware that it makes people uncomfortable. I no longer care.

I see everything. I am a big-picture girl. My heart breaks constantly. But I am now an expert at putting it back together, pulling up my big girl pants, and getting back to work.

I want to contribute, to change the world, and feed the hungry. I also want to build a cabin in the woods with a small garden and no internet and never leave. You are welcome to visit provided you bring chocolate, tea, and a few good jokes.

I am unwilling to cause others pain. And also, I feel that if you are banging your head up against my healthy boundaries, well my friend, that one's on you.

I totally understood the grief my daughter felt when she lost her tiny plastic Elsa toy in the ocean and sobbed for 15 minutes. And I was completely blown away when three adults grabbed their snorkel masks and in earnest, took on the waves to try to find it. I think the kindness in the effort was what made a difference to her. It made a huge difference to me too. I sometimes forget how kind humans can be. We never found Elsa.

I am all these things. I am worthy. I am holy. I am earth and sky and water and air with a little bit of magic fairy dust thrown in.

And I am in love with my life. And I am just becoming aware that there is so much more….

And that’s a lot. I have let go of a lot and I am still so many things and strangely, I feel more whole than ever before. Maybe the space left open by former beliefs isn’t really empty. Maybe taking time to purposefully choose my next step actually created room for the more permanent parts of me to take root, expand, and grow without feeling restricted by other people’s beliefs or societal opinions.

Maybe all this soul-searching has simply been unearthing the “me” that got buried, pushed aside, or muzzled. But that “me” was always there and she has been whispering to me from the deep dark places, waking me at 4 am, trying to tell me her story for years.

I am a fully grown woman, coming into her own. The first half of my life was about trying on outside thoughts to make myself fit a mold that never quite felt right. Now I realize that all that shape-shifting to be accepted was simply practice for shifting into the “me” that longs to live without definition and without limits. I was learning simply to become the most me I can be. Fluid, compassionate, confident, and completely unique. I always actually had everything I needed. I was always enough. I just didn’t know it yet. 

I am excited about all the things I will experience in the second half of my life. I may always be a seeker, as it appears that this is also part of my nature. But whatever my next endeavors turn out to be, the next 48 years will be about honoring my gifts and sharing them with those they would serve. Maybe my writing resonates with you. Maybe your inner soul has been calling to you too. It is my hope that this story will be found by other seekers and be of assistance when their days feel dark and heavy. Maybe these words will be your rainbow seen through the storm. 

This life is beautiful, magical, blessed, and beyond words. And there is great joy that comes from embracing who I truly am and allowing her to express her love freely. May this new understanding free you too. 

And with that, I will join John and Oona on this day we choose to set aside for gratitude. 

This is who I am and I am so very very grateful for my life.