As I approach my fifty-first birthday, it crossed my mind that I’m now heading in that “other” direction—you know, the one where we picture ourselves at the top of the mountain, standing tall and strong, basking in the knowledge that we finally got there. And then we think: Well, that’s it then. I made it. From here on out, it’s just slip-sliding all the way back down to the bottom.
I understand that this is a ridiculous notion on my part because for me, life has really just begun at the halfway mark. This past year has been the best year of my life, and just keeps getting better all the time. I’m happier than I ever was at age thirty-five, or twenty-one, or even sixteen. I’ve finally let go of the notion that I have to prove to the world that I’m good enough, and I’ve got to say it’s quite liberating! I finally like being me.
The very best part of aging is that I’m wise enough to realize that we’re all basically the same. It turns out that the woman sitting next to me at the dinner party (whom I used to worry was smarter, funnier and better dressed than I was) was actually thinking the same things about me (well, maybe not the better dressed part.) It’s just a fact that no matter how much money each of us has in our checking account, or what type of car we drive, or where our children attend college (or don’t), inside our minds and hearts we are often scared and vulnerable and too terrified to admit it. Now that I get this about people, I just love them so much more.
The other good thing about heading in that other direction is that I value my moments so much more now. It used to be that washing the dishes and folding the laundry took precedence over getting down on the living room rug to play with my young children. I live five minutes from the beach, but it used to be that I wouldn’t swim in the ocean because my body was too fat or my skin too fair. I didn’t want to get sunburned or track sand into the house or have to be bothered with cleaning the tar from my feet. I’ll go to the beach when the house is clean, or after the grocery shopping, or when I lose twenty pounds….
I had it all wrong. In my attempt to try to control my environment I denied myself the little pleasures in life. I see now that I only wasted precious time! How did I not notice the whisper of a cool evening breeze after a sultry day, or the fresh scent of sheets just pulled from the dryer? Why did I worry so much about how many calories were in that slice of peach pie that I didn’t take the time to savor the sweetness of each delicious bite?
A few weeks ago I returned from a trip with my family to Oaxaca, Mexico, and I can truly say that it was the best vacation of my life. It’s not that I hadn’t been to Mexico before—over the years we’ve been several times to visit my husband’s family. But it used to be that after only a week there, I was more than ready to come home. There were too many bugs, or it was too humid, or the poverty made me uncomfortable. I had a whole list of excuses for not wanting to be there.
This time though, I allowed myself to just let go and find the beauty in every moment. I didn’t worry about getting sick from the water, or getting stranded in the mountains on the way to my husband’s village. I put on a bathing suit, slathered on the sunscreen, and even though my thighs jiggled and I was the whitest person on the beach, I didn’t care! I visited ruins, went snorkeling with my kids, and ate fried bananas while swinging in a hammock. I walked the cobblestoned streets of downtown Oaxaca City with my husband’s family and spoke a ton of Spanish. I ate mole negro and handmade tortillas every chance I got and I spent more money than I should have. I thoroughly enjoyed my husband and my children. I laughed more often than not.
I lived.
So it may very well be true that I’m now headed down the mountain in that other direction— the very one I spent so many years trying to climb up, but hey—I’m just fine with that—going down is so much more fun. And I’m kind of tired after all those years of struggling.
Besides, it’s always so much easier going back down, and the view is spectacular.
Allegro non tanto 