Today is my birthday. Today I turn 50 (sigh). It feels so strange and surreal to see that in writing. From about the age of 30, most women start getting reassured about their looks, on their birthdays. “Don’t sweat it! You look amazing! No one would ever guess your age!” I am as vain as the next girl. It certainly feels good to hear that you look young and vibrant and attractive. Still, that’s not what really gives me the yips on my birthdays. For me, birthdays are like my own personal job review.
The build up to my birthday, finds me in quiet contemplation. I think my friends and family sense that, and they start giving me reassurance. “Fifty is the new thirty-five!” is among one of those reassurances I have heard in the last few weeks. Last night, I watched a beach sunset with two of my friends who are already in their fifties. “Your fifties are freeing! You have more of a F#ck It attitude!” We ended the night laughing, excited for me, that I was going to enter the threshold of my “F#ck It Fifties!”
Here’s the honest truth. In the build up to my birthday, when I was reviewing my past year and my past decade, I noticed areas where I had grown and matured and persevered, and I felt proud and I felt reassured. I also admitted to myself, areas of my life managing, which could use some work. This year my Food/Drink Consumption gets marked “Needs Improvement.” Still, what I was really honed in on, during my personal review process is the question, “What is my purpose now?” My kids are mostly grown. Mothering is what I have made the crux of my career. In the last couple of years, I have been floundering a little bit, trying to find that goal post, in the fog of the threshold of starting to close one door of my life, before entering another one. It was around Thanksgiving time, that I was blessed with the peace, of a deep, intuitive knowing and understanding of what my purpose is, at this stage of the game, and from that moment on, turning 50 became something I was excited about, versus dreading.
In my younger years, life felt like more of a formulaic race. In my twenties and in my thirties, I was doing the starter gate stuff – finishing up college, starting my career, getting married, buying a house, raising a family. My friends and my contemporaries, who were my same age, were great for comradery and commiseration, but in all truthfulness, when you are young, you still think that there is a prize at the end. You still think that there is a secret sauce that determines an easy, perfect life. So sometimes, in the relationships with women your own age, you have a tendency to get a little catty and competitive with each other, too. But then, once you are in your forties, everything is broken wide open. The secret sauce idea gets outed, as a total farce. By this stage of the game, you and most everyone you know, has been walloped by one major life event or another which reminds you, that none of us have nearly the level of control that we think we have, over just about anything.
It occurred to me, over Thanksgiving, that throughout my entire life, whether they were my confident years or they were the years that I was just clinging to my safety raft, there was one constant which I had relied on, through all of these times (and I still do, even now). These constant forces in my life which I refer to, are the older women who made me feel the most comforted and assured, more than anybody else. Their wise, even presence affirmed to me with no unwavering terms: Everything is going to be alright. Older female family members, older female friends, church ladies, ladies who headed up clubs and organizations that I belonged to, the secretaries at the school where I volunteered, two influential female bosses who I had worked for over the years, ministers, older women in my play groups (I was a young mom), a nurse who held me after my miscarriage, women from internet support groups, a kind therapist, teachers, professors, neighbors, writers, even strangers who were probably angels in disguise, being there, right at the moment that I needed them, with that blessed, blessed assurance. Everything is going to be alright. Other people can give you that message, like your contemporaries and strong men, and it is certainly good to hear that message from anyone, but coming from an older woman, who has gone through the stages of life before you, and confidently and knowingly tells you, and shows you, that “Everything is going to be alright”, well, that is powerful. That is commanding. That is reassuring. That is the power we women hold in life, a power like no other. When we love unconditionally, and we become way-showers, that is when we really step into our true selves and our true purpose.
I think that it was around Thanksgiving that this steady, peaceful wisdom, and the knowing of my purpose came to me. I had been fretting about the fact that my children were getting older now, and I want them to want to have a relationship with me. I don’t want any relationships that are based on fear, obligation or guilt. Those aren’t true relationships. While thinking about how I would like my adult relationships with my children to go, a knowing just came over me. This divine intuition said to me, “Your job now is to be Love. Your purpose is to be Love.” I thought to myself, how freeing, how easy, how reassuring and simple and pure. My job (any of our jobs, really) is probably just to be Love, but for me, it has taken me most of my life to really settle into that fact.
As I turn 50, and I fully realize that now, there are a whole lot more younger people on this Earth, than older than me, I hope that I can offer to them, that same steady, wise, nurturing assurance, than no matter what, Everything is going to be alright. It is my turn to pay this affirmation forward – in my words, in my deeds, and in my being. It is an honor and privilege to accept this sacred duty. I am grateful for the deep peace and understanding that has overcome me, as I move further into this second half of my life. I am clear. I am purposeful. It is obvious: Be Love. Everything is going to be alright.