11/12: One More Time Around

Welp, it happened. I turned 40 and didn't disintegrate into the ether: in fact, I feel pretty dang good.

I’m not sure what I would have thought about 40 at 20, though I can remember my dad turning 40 when I was 7. We had family friends over and decorated the yard and living room with “Over the Hill” paraphernalia which now seems like a quaint notion. Old at 40? Have you seen JLo? (Not that I’m comparing myself to Jenny from the Block, but this hopefully tracks.)

I had a great 40th birthday celebration trip with longtime friends earlier this month, and next weekend I’m giving myself the gift of time away alone before a week of work in LA.

Grateful and hopeful in the liminal: this is my mantra for the next 40. And if I make it to 80 I’m doing whatever the fuck is in me to do, because if you make it that far, all bets are off.

(And if the title of this post didn’t immediately make you sing this song’s chorus in your head, it will now.)