Today I am forty-five years old. Every year right before my birthday I get really reflective. Taking inventory of where I've been and where I'm going. Reassessing if I'm on the right path. And this year it hit me. If I am lucky enough to live to 90, I've lived half my life already. And that's the good news. So, that's when I got a bit depressed.
I'm sure I'm not the only one that feels twenty-five years old in my head. That's shocked at the passage of time. Like, just the other night I was watching 60 Minutes, another indicator of my age, when they noted the Chernobyl disaster was almost 30 years ago. HOW CAN THAT BE? I'm twenty-five in my head and the disaster I vividly remember watching on the news is older than me. Something is not right!
How did I get to be a middle aged woman?
When did this happen?
Until I started to sort through everything. All the really good choices I've made and all the really, really horrible ones that I wish I could go back and fix. But, I know that the completely imperfect, but way more self accepting forty-five year old version of me only emerged from the yin and the yang, the good and the bad, abundance and absence, pride and regret, love and hate. But ultimately, the integration of all of these things. Knowing that I cannot be defined by just one mistake or missed opportunity. The same way I can't by just one success or achievement.
I own my shortcomings and my strengths now.
But mostly, I'm content.
Yes, you heard that right! CONTENT. I've never been content before. But, I like it. A lot. So what if my life is half over or more than half over? Whenever my time comes I'm gonna go out swingin'. Maybe on a pole. Maybe on a trapeze. Who knows? And who the hell would want to? Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some livin', to do...