“Seize the day, then let it go.” — Marty Rubin
It’s been a while. I miss writing. Most days, even though I’ve blocked time on my calendar specifically for clicking away on my keyboard, it doesn’t happen. In addition to finding writing pleasurable, I desperately want to reach my personal goal of posting here twice a month. It hasn’t been happening, as you may have noticed.
In a few hours, I’m turning 40. The most honest lesson I’ve learned in my first four decades is that I can’t get more time, even though I’ve been trying really hard. Time is like a cloud that’s right in front of me- I see it, I feel it, but when I try to grab hold it slips through my fingers.
When I lay in bed, just before I fall asleep, I have a bad habit of inventorying all the things I haven’t gotten done instead of focusing on the achievements of my day. In October, I confessed this to my therapist and asked her for suggestions that would help me change my thinking. And I’m sorry to report that I was so taken aback by her unthoughtful reply, that I fired her. I don’t do that very often, but I’ve started trusting my gut (my lawyer is next, by the way). The therapist was barely a good fit and I’ve decided that time is too precious to waste an hour (one that I pay for) with someone who isn’t adding massive value.
I am so grateful for the time that I’ve had so far. “Grateful” feels like a grain of sand when I’m trying to describe the vastness of the seashore, but it’s the best I came up with this evening. As I’m sitting here writing this, I long to revisit time that’s been spent. I’d love nothing more than to hold my newborn children just one more time, or to eat lunch across the table from my mom. I also hope that I will have so much more time and that I won’t squander it.
When I turned 30, I remember thinking that I felt an inner peace, a oneness between my body and my spirit. It was refreshing and I wish I could say I was able to hold onto that. But things change with time. Now, ten years later, I understand something new about myself and my place in the world from a perspective that I never could have predicted. I think I’m going to like my 40s.
I remember vividly when each of my parents turned 40. They seemed grown up in a way that I can’t ever imagine achieving. It always seemed like they knew so much and I feel like I know very little.
I am excited to continue learning, loving and growing. And I hope that over the next decade all of that comes easier because I’ve spent so much time already learning how to be curious, creative, loving and open. I want it to be easier so I can slow down and appreciate everything more. There’s so much to appreciate.
I wonder if I’ll be able to do it.