Whoa, 40
back home
the love the love the love
The day felt like a shift. Tectonic. Soul level.
A return to myself
An arrival
The dust settling
The focus of a camera clicking into place
I know everyone has their version of this
I’ll share mine
The last few years, in particular, have been hard
They’ve also had moments of big joy and connection
The ground has fallen and rebuilt more than once
What’s constant has been me.
I am the one I carry along for the dance.
Somewhere along the way, on some level, I was so busy taking care of the passengers in my car, looking at other lanes, watching where I was going that I forgot to check in on the one driving.
I forgot I was driving.
I handed away my agency and voice in service of people pleasing, not being disruptive and real desire to not be alone.
Chasing connection with others, with achieving goals, with holding up some image of who I was supposed to be— disconnected me from the center of myself.
Sure, I didn’t stop being me but I also wasn’t fully reaping the benefits of my own presence.
Making new friends, accomplishing things, moving life forward and not realizing that there was a hole in the boat.
One of my teachers and dear friends says, you are the energy people walk into.
And that hit differently on my birthday.
I don’t have to perform, I don’t have to be anything I’m not.
In fact, the more I can be myself, with all of myself, the more I feel like myself.
The more I can really see and feel the life around me,
The people around me,
The love that goes so generously both ways.
My heart grew at my birthday gathering—
I could feel it pressing up against the basket of my lungs, on its neighbor my liver, asking my diaphragm to breathe deeper so it might feel and express more.
My dad says he felt like 40 was halftime, like intermission.
I want to give myself a real chance and commitment to integrate what I’ve learned and experienced in my life so far.
We always have options to begin again.
Every breath, every moment. Each new day. We CAN look around and choose something different.
I was going to say, I don’t think everything changes all at once. But life has taught me it actually can.
Life can knock you out. It has certainly taken me to my knees.
And then, I got up.
And I got up again.
I have never experienced half time in a locker room but I’ve seen Ted Lasso and Friday Night Lights, so I’ll use that as my template.
Jersey smeared with dirt, sweaty and breathless. A little weak in the knees.
I sit near my locker, grab some water. I catch my breath, I know there’s more of the game left. And I love this game, I love the people I get to play it with. I know that I have to dip deep. We are not done.
And then, it hits.
I got this.
I am resilient and strong and capable.
My heart is open and raw and full of love.
Don’t hold back, keep moving forward and for goodness sake have a good time out there. Play! Joyful determination.
Dim the lights, cue music and get back out there.
Crossed my sports and stage metaphors— it’s all one.
Thank you for the birthday love.
Onward.
Happy Birthday, sweet Nat!!