40 days from tomorrow, I will be 40.
Usually my Epoch of Birthday Introspection is from my actual birthday through New Years - it's a strange block of days that seem like a prelude to the new year, since I have turned the page but the rest of the world hasn't yet. This year it's come on much sooner, and it feels weird. But as I think back, I felt weird before my 30th birthday also. I remember describing it as feeling sort of like an emotional bottleneck -- everything squeezed tighter and then you were through, out in all the space imaginable on the other side.
At 30, a lot of what I was feeling had to do with the things I thought I would do by the time I was 30. I had set a lot of goals for myself, primarily professional and financial things, and I had accomplished those things. I was successful and independent and I was standing there looking around wondering "Where to?" I remember telling my priest that I didn't know what God wanted from me next. And I remember that he told me to pray with a sincere heart, "Here I am, Lord," and then buckle up, because when you tell the Lord you're ready things will move dramatically, in ways you never expected.
So here I am at (almost) 40, in a totally different space, what with the husband, the kids, the family home and the college savings - and yet the fundamental question I'm feeling is still the same. Where to, next? What is my purpose from 40 to 50?
Part of it is realizing that I am no longer the Bright Young Thing. My friend Jeff said that he was a little disappointed the day he realized he was no longer a wunderkind, but just a 40 year old guy doing the same things as most 40 year olds: raising a family, earning a living, making a home. I know what he meant.
Another part of it is realizing that when you're 40, a lot of the major building blocks of your life are in place and that reduces the sense of possibilities. Are you ever going to ditch everything and travel the world with a backpack? Well, if you are our friend Bitsy, maybe. But if you are a parent with two kids, a dog, and a mortgage, probably not.
A third part is the recognition that this is truly midlife. The journey outwards is over. We all have to acknowledge that somewhere between 40 and 50, for virtually everyone, you've crossed the midpoint and are on the way home. And I don't mind that in one sense - I'm not particularly worried about death - but it's weird to think that so much of the record of your life is already behind you.
I remember that around this time of year when I was 29, I had some revelations. Before Thanksgiving I told my mom, the patron saint of non-confrontation, that if my sisters were b!tches to me (as usual), I was not coming home for Christmas. I would stop in to see my mom at some point, but I would spend the holiday with my uncle and his family, where everyone would be glad to see me. 30 felt too old to put up with that shit any longer. And I don't know what she said to them, but whatever it was, it worked. Here ten years later, I have a genuinely nice relationship with Big Sis, and Lil Sis, well, she's still a pain in the ass, but mostly not to me. I would never have predicted it.
I wonder what the revelations will be this year. I wonder what I can't predict about what my life will be like at 50.
I'm celebrating my birthday with 4 days in New York with my maid of honor. And we've rented a house at the beach this summer with my matron of honor and her family. I don't know what I'm going to do on my actual birthday. I don't want to let it pass in silence, but I'm thinking that maybe this needs to be a whole year of celebrating all of what got me this far.
