It's funny how momentous it is when the first digit of your age changes. To me, it always feels similar to when I begin a new chapter in a book - I'm comfortable with the storyline so far, but know that this next chapter may bring new and interesting plot twists that I did not anticipate. If it has been a good book, I move on with great enthusiasm even as I know I'm approaching the final chapter. In the last few pages, I am not ready for this story that has been so dear to me to come to an end. But I know there will be another book to fall in love with.
The major difference in this analogy is this: in life, often there is no way of knowing when the end of the book is approaching. And my next book
will be in a very different place.
As I begin the 61st year of my life, I feel good. I love this life that is mine. I look forward to every day. I have so many things I want to do and try, places I want to visit, and goals I strive for. I am learning new things daily. I still feel young - which to me is a state of mind more than physical measure.
But also, as I begin my 61st year, my body often tells me something else:
My hair is thinning and has begun to gray. Where did that white eyelash come from? It wasn't there yesterday! Am I really coloring my eyebrow hairs?
Pains come and go (thankfully). My elbow, knees, and feet tell me when I've done too much, and I've learned that it is very important to listen and adjust. But despite the pains, more than ever I know how important it is to keep active and moving and exercising and stretching and pushing my body beyond where I think it can go - and have fun doing it. It not only will keep my body younger, but helps mentally too.
I'm thankful for the large supply of reading glasses in the house which enable me to read, knit, sew and see those dark hairs that grow out of my chin! And no matter how many pairs we have, it's always hard to find them.
My face continues to change, and more than ever it tells the truth about me. Some mornings I look in the mirror and say "who is this person?". I can no longer disguise a bad night of sleep or a week of worry. It seems like I have new wrinkles every day, but I prefer to call them "laugh lines" in appreciation for how they got there. The sun is no longer my friend. I have realized the best way to look my best involves 3 things: get a good night of sleep, exercise almost every day, and be happy with myself and my life.
I do a lot of crossword puzzles and word games to help keep my brain sharp. I listen to books as I walk the dogs, run, or fix dinner. I challenge myself with more and more difficult knitting patterns.
So, in this next chapter of my life, I look forward to so much, even as I know that nothing is life is certain.
I want to travel and have many places I want to see, but I am an introverted homebody at heart and find the most joy in simple things:
- the joy of planning my garden each season and watching as it comes alive in the spring and summer, sometimes in ways I didn't expect.
- the joy of seeing my children find their own way in life and being a part of that adventure as it unfolds.
- the joy of creating beauty around me, whether through photography, or any other artistic endeavors I can imagine and attempt.
- the joy of living simply, slowly, and peacefully. The best thing about this
time of life is to have the time to do things at a more relaxed pace. There is no need to multitask. No need to hurry.
- the joy of connecting (or reconnecting) with friends more often as they, too, enjoy retirement.
- the joy of having my husband by my side to travel, play, relax, work on projects, and spend time with our children
My sixtieth year begins on Sunday. It could be said that I am "over the hill". I used to hear that saying and think it sounded depressing. As someone who is a 60 year old cyclist, I now understand what it really means:
When I'm riding my bike and see a daunting hill ahead of me, I know it's going to be difficult. I know it will be painful at times. I know it will zap my energy and I will be feeling the burn in my legs. Sometimes I force myself not to look ahead and just concentrate on going the next 10 yards. I shift gears to make it easier. But when I reach the top and the terrain levels out, I am proud of the climb that I just achieved. Flat ground seems much easier than it was before. And very often, the payoff for that climb is a beautiful long stretch of gliding downhill with the wind in my face and a big smile on it.
That's exactly how I feel right now. And it ain't bad at all!
I'm ready to begin what may be the the most exciting chapter yet!
