…and counting.

In a very short time I’ll be leaving a decade behind. Isn’t it funny…..one minute changes everything somehow. And yet really…it changes nothing.

After all…it’s only a number.

Yes…but what a number!

I spent my entire 29th year depressed that I was going to turn 30 and that there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. That wasn’t helpful. At all.

Living and learning, as they say, I’ve spent my 39th year determined to use my up-and-coming birthday as a springboard – the start of a year long celebration. I think that’s supposed to happen every 50 years (year of jubilee) but I can do it again in a decade. Every good thing that happens this entire year will be “for my birthday”. Just warning you all to be prepared to hear that phrase happily and often.

I feel like I should write a post full of deep thoughts on turning 40. But I have tried, and I think what I’m finding is that I have no deep thoughts on it. Upon further reflection and deeper examination, I find there to be several possible explanations for that: (Did anyone else notice that last sentence doesn’t sound like me at all, or is it just me?)

a) I’m not REALLY turning 40. There has been a mistake somewhere along the way.

b)I’m turning 40 with the Ancient Ones in a community full of people decades older than me. I’m still the baby of the neighborhood and everyone treats me like a child…so it’s almost a moot point really. Would be completely different if I were turning 40 at home where I would be “The Ancient One”.

c) Turning 40 is accompanied by so much hype and sensationalism, but I’m looking at it very pragmatically and realize there is nothing to it.

d) The entire idea is so utterly ridiculous to me that I can’t take it seriously.

e) I am in total denial.

f) All of the above.

A few months ago I half jokingly said I would dye my hair and pierce my ears on my 40th birthday.

I’m not doing that.

Quite honestly, I’ve grown thankful for my gray hair. Since I still feel like I’m 25, I’m using my quickly graying hair…and yes, even a few wrinkles…to remind me that time is passing…and that I need to be aware of who and where I am in my life. Nice as we think it would be to always be 25…we’re not. And there are different times and seasons. I don’t want to miss out on the beauty of the seasons by dreaming that springtime will last forever. (How incredibly wise and mature does that sound? HA!)

And…..I’m still not good at making decisions or figuring out how I feel about poking holes through my ears…again.


Next time I post…I will be 40. How’s that for unbelievable?