Thoughts on turning 40

Exactly three people have asked me how I felt about turning 40. In roughly 31 minutes, I'll let you know...

I'm watching LA Ink, eating rice crackers and wondering what the hell is going on in the world. What do I feel about turning 40? Shit, I don't even feel 30 yet. I just recently figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up,.. I have no idea what I feel about turning 40!!!

One thing I can say with certainty is that 2010 is turning out to be one hell of a fucking year. Our world is so radically different from the world of 2000. What were we scared of back then? We were afraid the world would melt when the computers tried to roll the dates over from two digit yearly indicators to four. We were half certain that they would grow legs, and beat the shit out of us. It was sort of a let-down that nothing happened. We had no idea what was around the bend; literally the very next bend!

Whether it's MY age or THE age, what I've noticed most is that everything is 'kicked up a notch.' It sometimes feels like we're all trying to live out our lives in a superlative contest to see who is the biggest, baddest, worst, best, most extreme, least significant. When did that shit start? When did we start living at the speed of binary code? When did we start feeling insignificant without using as many adjectives as possible? I found myself doing exactly that the other day. Instead of just saying I was pissed, I said, "I was so pissed I went out of my mind." First of all, was I really that pissed? Did I really go out of my mind? Of course not. I was just pissed; a natural state of being for me. The moment wasn't any more or less significant than any other times when I was pissed. And, how weak can I be letting myself appear so frail and fragile that I can't tolerate someone not doing what I want? The truth is, our world is lived in the gray area ... for the most part. I mean, we don't have the most extreme things occurring every single day -- not even most days. Our lives are truly lived in the gray matter.

Another thing that has me freaked about middle age is that I'm not nearly as smart as I thought I should be at this point. I thought that, by now, I wouldn't be so easily beguiled by people. I thought, by forty, I would be more circumspect, more wise. But, I'm not. I'm still really naive. That really scares me. Also, I seem to be getting dumber. Ten years ago, I would not have used the word "dumber." Tonight, it seems just right. While my kids move forward at the speed of light, they surpassed my intelligence years ago. They ask me questions that sometimes make me wonder if I really did have my head up my ass all these years. After 40 years, I am still too trusting, too naive, still mired in self-doubt and self-recriminations; basically, I'm still me. And, I've come full circle. The thoughts and dreams I had ten and twenty years ago, have returned to me and I can remember having felt those things the first time around.

I was accused of being hit with a mid-life crisis. No, I'm not. I wasn't. Never happened. If anything, I'm only rediscovering the best and most beautiful aspects of who I've always been. I'm wanting to be unafraid of letting my true colors show. I'm wanting to be accepted for who I am, inside out. I no longer wish to wear the person that others expect me to be. I want to just be and let go of expectations; both theirs and mine. I want to be free. Don't we all? Even here, I haven't blogged in a long time. Wanna know why? It's because I'm afraid. At 39 years old, I've been afraid to speak my mind. Mostly, I was told that we (society at large) are not allowed to speak our mind -- not allowed to without harsh consequences. Even in anonymous ways. The person who told me that said that no one could say whatever they wanted, not ever. And, I've been held by my feetsies over the fire for my words lately. It hasn't been fun at all. In fact, it sucks donkey balls. I hate it. Not being able to speak freely. Being afraid.

I do suppose that is the thing that makes me most igged out about turning 40 (in two minutes). The fact is, after 40 years, I am still afraid. And, still feel the sting of loneliness. I am still not free, and hoping for a place and space to speak my mind freely. I don't want to be afraid anymore. And yet, there it is. The fear that those closest to me, are really going to get me in the end (probably because they have). It's paranoia at its finest and I am truly afraid to be exactly who I am.

CLICK!!!

That's it. I just turned 40 years old. How does it feel? *sigh* It feels empty. It's midnight, my fortieth birthday, my little one's are sleeping and I'm up, alone, at the computer. I sit here with my fears and apprehensions. I sit here with my words, and wonder how my brain could concoct anything that anyone would consider dangerous. I wonder how I can be so affected by others, who are seemingly not affected by me. I wonder at how I can be scrutinized and judged. I wonder about the world, the one I came from, the one I live in now. I wonder about the world my children will head toward. 40 is just plain scary.

Thinking about where I thought our world was headed, I am sad that we missed the mark so badly. And yet, there is hope. Because tomorrow, I'll be forty years old, plus one day. And for 364ish more days, I can still say that I am just 40, and have the whole year to work on creating a better tomorrow, a better world. Today begins and I still can try, can fight to make it what it ought to have been. I can still work to make my life, and the lives of my children better, brighter happier places. I can still work to be a better person; smarter, more compassionate, more aware. Hope, that's my final thought around turning 40... There is hope and love and passion. Most of all, there's still fight inside me. Hello 40,.. I plan on kicking the shit out of you!!!