Bring on the Big 5-0!

There are 53 days left before I turn 50.

I wrote that sentence and thought how many hours is that? So like an idiot I googled it and found a countdown that showed me in real time – a clock…counting down…53 days…12 hours…34 minutes…23 seconds…22 seconds…21 seconds…yikes!

I looked at it for as long as it took me to register shock then horror and then hit the back button so I  didn’t have to see it slowly ticking away at my life.

Seriously, that was awful! Why, oh why, did I do that?

Because it’s not like this birthday has been sneaking up on me. We’ve been planning a big trip next spring to celebrate said birthday along with our 30^th wedding anniversary. I knew it was coming.

So why all of a sudden the feeling of panic?

Angel on one shoulder, Grim Reaper on the other…

I’m not completely certain, but I do know that every now and again my mortality disguised as a tiny Grim Reaper on my shoulder, rears up and whispers, “Beware! The end is near!”

Again, this should not be a surprise. I work in a funeral home. I don’t know how many times I’ve said that nothing will help keep your perspective in line like working around death.

Maybe it’s because this is another one of those birthdays that ends in a ‘0’. Those ones – and the ones that end in ‘9’ – seem to be when we start taking stock of what we’ve done or what we haven’t done.

I can remember very clearly approaching my 40^th birthday. I remember the words that came out of my mouth:

“I don’t want to be 40 and fat.” *sigh*

I have had an entire DECADE to work on that and quite frankly I don’t want to talk about how successful (or not) that I’ve been with hitting that goal.

So what else haven’t I done? What else have I let myself down on?

Because I don’t want to depress myself let’s not talk about it.

So am I really failing at life?

I like to think I’m a ‘glass half full’ thinker, a bit of an optimist. Truth be told I’m more like one of those magic bottles that comes with baby dolls. You know the ones. They look like they’re full of milk or juice and when you tip them over the milk or juice magically disappears as your baby doll drinks it up. Put the bottle back down and PRESTO! They’re full again!

I’m full of good thoughts. Then I actually start thinking and then I start overthinking and pretty soon my bottle is empty. I have to step away from – well from myself actually – and realign my perspective.

So this is me…stepping back for a few minutes. I’m literally going to go and walk my dog. I’ll be back. (Did you just read that with your Arnold Schwarzenegger/Terminator voice? I hope so.)

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Gold doesn’t always glitter but frost does…

I’m back!

So I’m not sure what I was expecting, but walking in the northern woods in late fall doesn’t exactly fill me with hope for the future. Pretty much every leaf on every tree is now lying dead on the ground. It’s wet and muddy and all of the deadfall that’s been hidden by the lush undergrowth all summer is now exposed for all the world to see.

I wrote a piece about fall a couple of weeks ago. What’s that, you say? I missed a post?

No. You didn’t. I didn’t publish it. Not because it wasn’t any good. I think it was…is.

I was reflecting on the autumn colours; how the colours of fall are so much richer and (in their own way) maybe lovelier than the greens of spring and summer. Fall colours are more…unpredictable, varying in intensity depending on temperature, moisture levels, amount of sunlight, and even how windy it has been.

I was searching for quotes to use in that particular piece, quotes about frost and I came across this oft-quoted gem from Tolkien:

You’ve heard it many times I’m sure, but it was the second half that surprised me (which is where the part about frost comes in): “…the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost.”

That’s good right?!

Grey hair? Don’t care!

Truth be told, the frost is starting to lie on this pumpkin. I swear there’s more grey in my hair every day. Again, truth be told, I don’t really care.

I care that for almost 50 years I’ve been trying to set deep roots. I’ve been trying to become more and more the person I want to be, to follow the path I want to follow not the one others think I should. Being authentic is hard work. Too many things crowd in telling me I ought to be something else, something more, something less.

I should be thinner, fitter, prettier, smarter, more outgoing, less opinionated, more ambitious, blah, blah, blah.

Frankly, I’m okay with who I am and with who I think I am becoming. I’m more proud of the things I have seen and done in the past ten years than I am sorry for the things I didn’t do. I like myself and I couldn’t always say that.

So bring on 50! Let’s tip the bottle back to full and drink it down again and treat it like it really is…a bottomless cup of possibility.

There. How’s that for positive thinking? 🙂