35
Funny how when your birthday age ends in a 5 or a 0 it seems a bit more heavily weighted. No, wait, that's the scale.
I was trying to come up with something to write about. Something about what I learned in these 3.5 decades, these 1,820 weeks, or 12,775 days. Please do not check that math... that would be what I haven't learned in these 306,600 hours.
So far, I haven't really come up with any groundbreaking insight or sudden moment of clarity. Supreme understanding of the ups and downs and the ebb and flow of life is something that will perhaps come with another few decades. All I got is this:
It's all going to be okay. Not in a life is going to be perfect way, but in a life will never be perfect. And that no matter how good you got it, there will always be the "if only" thoughts, the slightly unsettled-peace is just around the corner feeling. Because that's how you're supposed to feel in your 20s and your 30s and probably even 40s and 50s. I don't know that you're supposed to be completely settled until you've lived your life. I mean, if you've got nothing to strive for, work for, nothing to want... that's not really living is it? So maybe having a bit of needful (thank you AT for the word - its perfect) is really okay.
I remember my 20s. Or most of them. What sticks is a great sense of impatience, of foot tapping, finger drumming, get to the good stuff type of can't wait for what's next. Somewhere around 31 or 32 I took a deep breath and shook that off. I stood still for a bit. The turmoil of a failed marriage safely tucked away, the newness of my independence had lost that shiny, new iPod glare. And what I felt when I stood in my little apartment in Chicopee or my favorite place in Westfield (gosh that was a great time in my life)... I always knew it was okay. That I was, that my kids would be. OK. In every sense of the word. I believed it then and I believe it now. I knew it would be okay when Ken and I decided to split, when my fridge held nothing but a dozen eggs and some old mustard, when I rolled loose change for gas money. I knew it would be okay when I walked onto the campus of Westfield State without a car, without babysitters, without support at home. I just did it. I closed my eyes and jumped. I lived a lot of my life like that.
Maybe that's the real big difference.... I still jump, only now I do it with both eyes wide open. What's the point of skydiving if you can't enjoy the view?
I was trying to come up with something to write about. Something about what I learned in these 3.5 decades, these 1,820 weeks, or 12,775 days. Please do not check that math... that would be what I haven't learned in these 306,600 hours.
So far, I haven't really come up with any groundbreaking insight or sudden moment of clarity. Supreme understanding of the ups and downs and the ebb and flow of life is something that will perhaps come with another few decades. All I got is this:
It's all going to be okay. Not in a life is going to be perfect way, but in a life will never be perfect. And that no matter how good you got it, there will always be the "if only" thoughts, the slightly unsettled-peace is just around the corner feeling. Because that's how you're supposed to feel in your 20s and your 30s and probably even 40s and 50s. I don't know that you're supposed to be completely settled until you've lived your life. I mean, if you've got nothing to strive for, work for, nothing to want... that's not really living is it? So maybe having a bit of needful (thank you AT for the word - its perfect) is really okay.
I remember my 20s. Or most of them. What sticks is a great sense of impatience, of foot tapping, finger drumming, get to the good stuff type of can't wait for what's next. Somewhere around 31 or 32 I took a deep breath and shook that off. I stood still for a bit. The turmoil of a failed marriage safely tucked away, the newness of my independence had lost that shiny, new iPod glare. And what I felt when I stood in my little apartment in Chicopee or my favorite place in Westfield (gosh that was a great time in my life)... I always knew it was okay. That I was, that my kids would be. OK. In every sense of the word. I believed it then and I believe it now. I knew it would be okay when Ken and I decided to split, when my fridge held nothing but a dozen eggs and some old mustard, when I rolled loose change for gas money. I knew it would be okay when I walked onto the campus of Westfield State without a car, without babysitters, without support at home. I just did it. I closed my eyes and jumped. I lived a lot of my life like that.
Maybe that's the real big difference.... I still jump, only now I do it with both eyes wide open. What's the point of skydiving if you can't enjoy the view?
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here is to 35!!! And to YOU!!! Happy Birthday Jenn, enjoy every min... see how fast those 306,600 have gone!!
ReplyDeleteI think you have quite a bit of clarity and understanding and I love your last line... What is the point of skydiving if you can't enjoy the view?? soooo true!!
The apartment in Westfield was a "good time". :) I still think about that New Year's party we had there with Elizabeth Marshall and company and the time we went hunting for that hamster or whatever it was. LOL
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