Today I am 41.
How do I feel about that?
Honest answer: Worse than I felt about 33, but better than I felt about 40.
Last year was tough. The bad parts of last year slammed into me like a wrecking ball. By mid-year, I found myself feeling like I was in a “Talking Heads” song, and by that, of course I mean this one:
But why the ennui? Why the dissatisfaction?
Critical analysis points to this: When I was 38.75, I celebrated my dear, dear friend MA’s 40th birthday with her in Aspen, Colorado. Several months prior to that date, MA took stock and changed things about herself. Lost weight. Got into amazing shape. Prioritized her priorities. Found The One.
I so admired her (Still do!). I wanted to emulate her with my own personalized Life Makeover.
But I didn’t. 39.5 rolled around. And I didn’t get it in gear. 39.9999 rolled around. And I didn’t get it in gear.
Then there was 40.
I started strong, running a marathon and then a half-marathon in the same week, one on the East coast and one on the West. It was fun.
Then I lost my mojo.
That was distinctly *not* fun.
The thing is – and I truly believe this – we’re all a work in progress. Just because boxes are ticked on some imagined Life Checklist doesn’t mean all the checkmarks add up to unequivocal bliss.
I re-examined what made me happy. The list was pretty simple.
- Being with people I love (and who love me)
- Intellectual stimulation
Ok, that last one was a bonus.
And today, at 41, I also recognize this to be true:
Priorities have been re-examined. Stock has been taken. Resolutions have been made. Family and friends remain cherished. Battles are picked, but only when necessary. Laughter is easy. Stuff is just stuff. Progress is being made.
I have a good feeling about the year(s) to come. Time to celebrate.