The Big 4-0… and a confession
Posted on July 7, 2015
I turned forty this weekend. And guess what? I am OKAY!
Since I’m all about the truth and admitting my own fears (even if they’re silly) in an effort to liberate others from theirs, I have a confession. Turning 40 freaked the hell out of me. I’ve been mostly a basket case for the last six months. Ask my husband, he was there for the entire performance.
When my eyes fluttered open on the morning of my fortieth year he was already awake and staring at me. He looked deep into my eyes and said, “Happy birthday, honey! I love you. Do you want to go look at the forty pink flamingos on the lawn?” I laughed. There were no pink flamingos, of course, but he can always make me laugh. Even in dire situations like the arrival of a birthday that has been causing angst for half a year.
But what did this birthday girl really want? Not just on her birthday, but for her life?
I want to be a glamorous guru, a sexy sage, a modern mystic, a beautiful, radiant, wise, glowing teacher for women. I want to do and be more than I have ever been. I want to see more. I want to be a success on my terms. I need to learn to ask for what I want. I need to learn to take myself back.
I feel like I am at a pivotal point of my life. A cross roads. I still have one foot in the corporate world and one foot on the earth- the wild, magical world of dreams and growth and endless possibilities. But sometimes that world does not pay the bills. Sometimes that world does not put braces on the kids’ teeth or put them through college, or allow us to retire comfortably, or to travel to places we can only dream about. But maybe it can… if I do it right.
How can I do this in a way where I can still be a devoted, loving, present mom and an amazing, beautiful, sexy, smart and engaging wife?? And work towards my ultimate personal goals? That’s a tall order, universe.
Here is what I know. I can write. Those who know me and have read my work usually say to me some version of the following: “You’re an amazing writer.” “I don’t even enjoy reading, but I can read what you’ve written.” “When will your book be done?” “When can I read your pages?” “Why don’t you blog more?”
And so here I am crying. Tears streaming down my cheeks. Because the word is my magic. I have so much to give. I want to grow an amazing “Spirit Girl” blog. A place where modern women can pop in and take a breather, a deep breather and reconnect with themselves. A place where I can bring them back to their heart of hearts in their crazy, busy, over-scheduled, under-slept lives. Where they can learn to love themselves more than life itself, where they have a wild, primal, deep connection to spirit, where they can be more themselves than they have ever been, with just a few words. Words written by me. I know I am not a noisy, bossy, extroverted, self-assertive leader-type person who says “Look at me! Listen to me!”. I am not a BIG showy personality. The personality that I have is sparkly, silly and mostly soft, but filled with deep inner strength. I’m like one of those wind chimes. My sounds are soft and soothing, but my message resonates deeply and I am made of things that are strong and real and authentic.
I want love. Love, love, so much love my head spins. Love so that I feel slightly dizzy but don’t lose my balance. I’m not talking about romantic love, although I adore romance. I’m talking about life love. Where I create the life I was meant to live. I want to go deeper, laugh harder, kiss more, see things, grow things, do things. I want my wildest dreams to be something from my past.
And so tonight, as I settle in to count my blessings, say my prayers, do my evening meditation when my beautiful small beings are tucked safely away, warm in their beds, I want to ask the universe, to please give me a sign. Please God, tell me in a very clear sign what I am to do next. I know I am on a path but feel like I may have lost my way. I want to do what is best for my family, but I also want to be the me I am meant to be.
Do I sound like a child? I still feel like one even at forty. I feel like a child who has lost her way in the forest. It’s a beautiful forest, but the path isn’t all that clear. If she goes one way she will find her way to a magical home. If she goes the other? Well, we don’t know what will become of her, do we? ♥