As a child and even into my twenties, I
had a very different vision of how this birthday would feel. “Over the Hill”
sentiments in card stores, black balloons and streamers, and movies depicting
uncool, middle-aged parents had led me to believe that 40 marked some sort of
beginning of the end — an age when you had already done all the great things
you could do, had your fun, and were settling into an adventure-less existence
for the remainder of your dwindling years.
I’ve probably despised the big 4-0 more
than I should. I struggle with the
notion that my life is “approximately half over”. I have worried, and fretted, and feared
perimenopause and gray hair, and I’m constantly obsessing on whether I need
bifocals probably ever since I hit 37ish.
I mean these thoughts didn’t stunt my everyday life, but I most
certainly was not accepting change and would have preferred to bury my head in
the sand and make time stand still whenever I’d think about it. Then it hit me: What am I going to do about it? I could struggle and continue to try to see
how well I can read small fonts in low-light, or I could celebrate my journey
and feel pride in all that I’ve become in my 40 years.
40 is going to happen whether I fret or
not, so I’ve (painfully) made a choice to be excited over it. My mind is filled with the wisdom of 40 years
of life lessons. I have had the pleasure of knowing people who have shaped,
molded, and contributed to my inextinguishable zest for life. That’s you—I’ll call you “my tribe”. Your
roles are all different. You raised
me. You grew up with me. You were my first friends. You saw me through childhood, high school,
and college. You drove with me down back
roads. You shared bedrooms with me. You finished my sentences. You took care of me when I was sick—both naturally
and self-inflicted. You let me make good
and bad choices. You breathed goodness
and wholeness into my life. You taught
me loyalty. You showed me
consistency. You showed me love. You have told me the truth in the kindest and
cruelest of ways, when deserved. You
worked alongside of me day in and day out, sharing our passions and
frustrations. You offered me unconditional
friendship. You challenged me to be
better. You have helped me develop a
sense of what truly matters in living a happy life.
So now it’s time to walk in love and
savor what’s to come. Because while they might be just numbers, years are
disappearing far too quickly. And I can’t afford to waste another second
thinking about the math. Now is the time to simply just live, as authentically
and happily as possible. And also, as
always, to continuing growing….
Because I love fresh starts and
self-improvement, I’ve committed to taking on a “Happiness Project” for my 40th
year, (A project inspired by Gretchen Rubin’s book that we read as a part of
our book club several years ago) and I am inviting my “TRIBE” (that’d be you)
to come along with me. The core of a
“happiness project” is to identify elements of your life that you want to
change. It’s about finding concrete,
measurable resolutions that, if kept, will help you bring about that change and
hold yourself accountable for keeping them.
I’ll be developing 12 aims/resolutions
for the 12 months of 2017, along with developing some personal commandments.
I’m inspired to be calmer, more
centered, have better priorities, and a truer sense of what matters most at any
given moment. I’m looking at 40 as if I
get to begin again. With an entire life behind me and an entire one ahead. And even if you’re plus or minus 40 yourself,
you get an opportunity, through me, to come along for the ride and make
whatever year you’re in the best yet.
So, glasses, up! Cheers--- to kick-starting a new year, (and
new decade in my case) in which we will get to know ourselves better, and care
what others think of us less, leading to a greater sense of freedom to just be
ourselves.
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