Except in my house, because if you said that in my house, you'd hear a common refrain: "Infinity's not a number! It's a concept."
So I can't have my half-life turn into whole-life times infinity, but I think as I sit perched on what feels like my half-life, what lies before me feels and looks like whole-life. If not whole-life plus one.
A friend asked me what I was going to do for my birthday. I said write a blog post. She said, "No, I mean, what fun thing are you going to do?" And such is life. Whole-life.
I had another friend ask me how I felt about turning 40. I told him plainly, "It's a timestamp moment. One of those times in life when you take a look around and appraise the situation. What have I done and accomplished? What did I set out to do and accomplish? Have I become the person I was thinking I'd become? What more do I have to do? What more do I want to be?"
He asked about my four kids, where they fit in to what I wanted to do and be. And I've had to put that in my pipe, so to speak, and think on that. It's a tricky question. For me.
Taking stock is something I do daily. I've been trained in it over the last many years. I've had masters show me the way of self-less and thorough inventorying of character assets and character liabilities. I've been required -- for happy living -- to take note of what's gone well and what went bust in my days. I've had to -- as I've mentioned before -- course correct, sometimes like fine-tuning, sometimes like changing trains mid-trip -- a full rearrangement of self.
Here's what I see on a look back: I haven't traveled as much as I thought I would, should or wanted to. I always imagined I'd end up traveling for a living, and that hasn't happened. In fact, I haven't ever been to Canada or fully into Mexico or even Hawaii for that matter. I've only been to Europe twice and those were brief stays. Visited East Africa for a while, which is probably, to date, one of my life's best traveling highlights. However, the countless road trips I've taken with my boys...well, those are priceless. I am a SUCKER for a road trip, especially one with good company, oddities, and country roads. Life with few expectations and the only known is what is unknown. I can really get into it. I've loved the parts of the US we've seen together. I love that we've visited some twice...places we like so much we wanted to go back. I'm blessed to have quality traveling partners in this life.
Career -- I don't have a retirement account. I barely have enough quarters for Social Security. I've given much of me and my life's energy into the growing of a family, not a bank account. But the growing of that family gave me the best calling....midwife. And so my job isn't really a job, but a blessing. And I'm thankful to have found a place where my life falls together. Going to work, for me, often feels like going to church...and I wouldn't trade that for all the tea in China or a retirement account (but ask me again when I'm of retirement age).
Friends...my life overflows with lifelong and newfound friends. If there is any aspect of my life that's in deficit, it's because my friend life is in surplus. Except not really a surplus, because each one plays such a unique and valued role in my days -- each one is vital and just right, right where and how they are. I feel fortunate to the point of tears for the intense and gratifying exchanges I have with my friends. And if you're reading this, and you are one, I hope you know the impact you have on my days, my heart, and my psyche. One of my life's greatest gifts...good friends.
I've been blessed with good health and the ability to see and hear amazing natural wonders. I do not take this for granted. I'm acutely aware that there are people who will never climb Half Dome or even Bishop's Peak. I can't pack into my cells enough gratitude for the time I've spent outside in the dirt seeing, smelling, hearing all Nature's Grandeur. It is really out there that I feel at peace. Out in the green and blue.
Likely, I haven't really been 'lucky in love' as they say...but even this is a blessing. It's given me space in my life to love people wholly -- with my whole self. Not a romantic kind of love, but the giving kind of love. It's one of the parts of me I like the best -- this ability to see the lovable in people, especially in people who appear unlovable.
Family...I come from a wacky and large one. But one of the best ones I've encountered. We circle our wagons when needed and we shove baby birds out of the nest when needed and howl at the moon together around campfires singing loudly and proudly choruses of "Hey, Jude" or "Rocky Raccoon."
I am probably not as good of a mother as I could be. I don't like board games much -- mostly because I hate the agony of defeat and someone always seems to lose in board games. I don't like PTA either. Sorry. I'm much more a behind the scenes helper mother, so running for some office, coordinating meetings for school, or being a Booster isn't anything I'm going to do. I have to draw some lines, and that's one or some. I'm also not going to kill myself with extracurricular activities for kids, either. Again, sorry. I'm sure they could've done more chess club or I should've signed them up for hip hop dance class or we could've done more language immersion or self-defense or organized sports or...or...or swim lessons. I'm sure I could've done more. And I didn't. But I won't lose sleep over it. Much.
But I have loved them madly. Intently. With purpose and devotion. How could I not? Have you met them? They are lovable. And my role as mother is the best place I've found for thorough self-assessment and reflection -- always room to grow. And so much of who I have become and how I have developed over the course of the (almost) last two decades is because of their presence. As a friend recently pointed, I may have birthed my boys, but they, in turn, have birthed me as mother.
Which brings us back to my friend's question about my boys and how being their mother fits in my 40 years. I am sure if they hadn't been -- for whatever reason -- I would have survived and thrived. But their existence has enriched my life in ways I could never have imagined. And today, when I see that family photo of the five of us, I have a deep and abiding sense that this -- this here -- this is whole-life.
"You gotta live for the one that you love, you know.
You gotta love for the life that you live, you know."
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