When I decided to move to the area where I live, I spent several weekends travelling to the area to look at homes. One weekend, I’d nearly given up and was taking a drive through one last neighborhood. Tired, a little defeated, frustrated the “right” house hadn’t jumped out yet. Driving through that area, I noticed a semi-truck with a livestock trailer. Suddenly, out from the trailer came sheep after sheep, I think nearly 200! Honestly, it was so delightful I simply sat at watched them, curious about their presence.
What I’ve since learned, now that I live in that same neighborhood, is that my town uses sheep to clear weeds from the open green belt spaces. Each year, the sheep are brought in and within a day or two, the grass and weeds are gone. I take time to watch them and when they were recently in our area, I was thinking about the herd. These are not the young, sexy sheep. Quite the opposite. They’re older, their coats are in various states of falling off, some are white, but others black, brown or spotted. Most definitely, they are past the prime of their life, but have found a second calling. They serve a purpose.
Each year I watch the sheep, I think about the purpose they’re serving. At the same time, I ponder the purpose each of us serves as we grow older. I read a quote that we start living at 40 and up to that point we’re still doing research. I can attest to that, and would stretch it closer to 50, now that I’m there and can see the lessons continuing to unfold.
There’s a tipping point that I’ve noticed happens somewhere around the late 40’s early 50’s where you take stock. It’s the realization that the “building” that we focus on when we’re younger…build the career, home, family…is maybe not done, but no longer requires the attention we previously gave it. And many of us ask, what now? What’s next? My big question is “how do I want to ride out my life?”
I now understand the reinvention that happens in middle age. It’s more of a redefinition, one which is still in the works for me, but has involved reading and reading and reading some more to figure out how I got here. It’s not a searching, it’s an examination, looking at what works and what doesn’t to decide what to carry forward.
That examination has also shifted to looking at what I bring to the party, what do I know. It’s a question each of us can ask. After a lot of living and experience, we have homed in on our talents. We know what we like and don’t and can drop the parts that don’t work for us. There’s a quiet confidence that emerges in middle age. Not blustery or ego driven. A confidence that allows us to ask harder questions about the systems and beliefs that were handed to us. We might find that some of what we’d been taught doesn’t make sense anymore or requires additional thought. The careers we pursued because they made sense, but do they anymore? Maybe. Or maybe with some tweaks.
Each of us continues to have a purpose, but the values which drive it may have changed. And that’s ok. If we don’t continue to grow, we’re dying. I was accused of changing a few months ago, to which I simply replied, yes, I have. It’s part of life.
What about you? Is the focus and purpose you established earlier in life still on point? If you’re following the same one because you feel you must, you don’t. Especially if it’s the path someone else laid out for you. It’s our journey, friends. One that leads us to unexpected places, discovering ourselves as we go, and living out our best lives. We have the wisdom, are brave and courageous and are moving down a new path together.
Every 4 ½ minutes, a baby is born with a birth defect in the United States. That’s nearly 120,000 babies born with birth defects each year. In my estimation, the prevalence of birth defects in the late 1960’s when I was born was perhaps more, because maternal care was not as sophisticated as today. Though I don’t have the stats on it, the advancement of medical care through the years has also likely resulted in a decrease in the long-term effects of some birth defects.
Does anyone else enjoy an afternoon hanging out in a sub-zero movie theater when it’s 105 degrees outside in the shade? Literal fry an egg on the pavement weather. I’ll quickly jump on that train as an escape and, hopefully, to be entertained. Which I was last weekend, enjoying The Farewell.
California recently emerged from a drought that lasted 376 weeks. From December 2011 to March 2017, the state endured one of the most intense droughts in California history. The cause was attributed to a ridge of high pressure in the Pacific Ocean, named the “Ridiculously Resilient Ridge” which often barred winter storms from reaching the state. Researchers can see evidence of past droughts by analyzing tree rings, smaller during periods of drought.
Adventurous. Isn’t that an adjective we hope people use when describing us? Up for anything. Ready for any anything. Traveler, experience seeker…all of it. I’d like to call myself an adventurer. I love exploring places I’ve never been, love finding somewhere new. Love the idea of travel. Picking up at a moment’s notice and taking off, no plans…open to whatever comes my way.
My Dad has a saying he’s adopted as I’ve gotten older, “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” He encourages us to live full, engaged lives…to do our best. I remind myself of this reality on a regular basis. But it’s so easy to get tripped up along the way…sometimes I wonder if that’s what I’ve mastered…the misstep.
Tears started welling up quickly the other day. It was the end of a long, stressful time in life. Tension and stress that built up over a prolonged period and had not yet found a place to release. Tears had not yet found their way to my eyes, but I knew they were coming, I wasn’t sure when, but I knew it was a matter of time.
When I was young, many of my daydreams surrounded growing up, getting married, having babies… standard dreams, at least that’s what I thought. What I saw happen with my friends was a detour from that path. Many of my friends waited to get married, had no kids, pursued their careers, they made different choices. But not me, I took the path I thought I was supposed to in order to truly “adult.” I got married, had my babies, and at the same time, did the career thing.
I have a love/hate relationship with shoes. On the one hand, love…so much. My go to these days are fashion sneakers and sandals, flats of any nature are my jam. But the Arizona Birkenstock sandal and I, there’s something special there. That shoe, I swear, it courted me. Wooed me. Five years ago I would have said it was the shoe of the hippie, today, not only are they fashionable, but there is more than an outside chance the hippie in the room is me, thank you very much.
The call you never expect, news you can’t believe but which sinks in slowly over time. A couple of weeks ago, I received one of those calls at work. A co-worker and friend had passed away unexpectedly, at what I consider a young age, 62. The pain that rippled through my workplace in the following days was palpable as we shared in fond memories and sadness.