By Karen A. Chase

Author of Bonjour 40: A Paris travel log

(40 years. 40 days. 40 seconds)

Why is it that turning 40 is supposed to be a bad thing? I know a lot of women curl up in the fetal position over it, but for me, it was a chance to do something I’d always longed to do. Live in Paris. For a month. I’ve made choices throughout my life that made this moment possible, but what made it feasible was simply that I planned to do it. When I turned 39, I said I’d go to Paris for my fortieth, and so I spent the year preparing to accomplish just that.

I took French lessons, and studied French DVDs. I found an apartment, put together a budget, and saved for it. Every time I thought about buying a blouse, or a new pair of shoes, I thought, “that’s a day in Paris.” Or, “Why would I buy American shoes when I’m going to Paris.” When tax time rolled around I said no to investing in my IRA (Because the market stinks anyway), and invested in my L-I-F-E instead.

Cry? Moan? Whine? About turning 40? Why on earth would I do that? The other option to smile, embrace it and take a trip of a lifetime is so much more rewarding. The side benefit has been it’s helped launch a career I’ve wanted for a long time. To write. My blog, photos and trip turned into a full-fledged book. Goodbye 39. Bonjour 40! Now, I can’t wait until 50 comes along!

I did have a revelation though. I put too much focus on other people making me happy. From this day forward, I will put my trust in the Lord and not in people. After all, God is the only on in my life that has never broken His promise that He will never leave me. So, tomorrow I will reflect on the forty years that God has blessed me with, and share my day with Him.

Via Dillard 57: This year was a big birthday, a life turning point. Moreover, I’m not the type of person who keeps her age a secret. I don’t care if people know my age, and I don’t feel shame about my age. I think getting older is ok. So turning 40 was not a secret, nor was it a birthday I particularly felt I needed to celebrate in a big way. I told family and friends that I have gotten so much love and support and generosity with my wedding and the birth of the Peanut, that I did not need any more parties or presents. I celebrated with Mr. Right on the day, and then the next day both me and the Peanut were sick so we laid pretty low. Whoopee! We are Party People.

Being the overly introspective type, nonetheless, this landmark birthday does give me pause.What does it mean to turn 40? What does it mean to move into this new decade? I didn’t want to let this one go by without a good ponder. And my dear friend Tina feels like I am some sort of trailblazer as I am a year older than her to the week, and one year older as a momma. She called me last night to remind me that I had not yet shared my musings. I was so honored that she even wanted to hear them that I am trying to oblige her now.

I asked a few of my personal trailblazers: how was or is the 40^th decade? And what was your favorite decade? I received the expected mix of answers, but almost all of them asserted that the 40s are a good decade, a year of coming into to your power as a woman, especially. I like that.By 40, you finally feel confident enough of yourself to be yourself. And to like yourself. And to know what you need and when you need it and then go and get it. I like all of this. I can see why it would be true.

I am a little sorry to leave my 30s behind though. The first 5 years of 30 were pretty good. I had an extremely fulfilling run as “Urban Artistic Single Woman” who was all hip and had all kinds of adventures and had freedom and a large community of friends and activities.. I miss my very sweet apartment, the 3^rd floor of a triple decker in Somerville, filled with sunshine and my artwork and my cat and my books. My time was my own – a concept I suppose you never appreciate until it’s gone. Then I met Mr. Right and oh my goodness, it has been a whirlwind ever since. I won’t bother tracking all the changes (most of which have been tracked in this blog), but let’s just say I’ve gone from “Urban Artistic Single Woman” to “Suburban Exhausted Working Mom Who Can Barely See Straight.” In some ways, all my childhood dreams have come true. And in some ways, the transition has been one of the two toughest times of my life. My world is definitely much smaller and much more chaotic. I also think becoming a new mom later in life has its advantages (maturity, gratitude, stability, lots of friends with help and advice) and some disadvantages (less stamina is a big one). So my age does have an impact on my parenting.

I’ve always envisioned my 45 year old self as this wise person who looks back in time at me and smiles, both a little ruefully at all the flailing about I do, but also with encouragement. That it will turn out OK, that I’m doing fine, that it will be fine in 10 years … now 5 years. She looks calm and has found the place where I need to be. So now I’m that much closer to finding her, even if I feel like I’m a bit frayed around the edges these days. So yes, 40 is just fine with me.

Via Notorious Rob.com There was a time when I thought 40 was the end. I was probably 19 or so, drunk on the peculiar poetry of youth, philosophical in the way that only the semi-mature can be, and caught in the strange shadowlands between the unbounded world-is-your-oyster optimism and the soul-killing despair at the evils of the world.

40? Might as well be dead.

All young men, perhaps, wish to be Achilles: heroic, strong, beautiful, foolhardy, passionate, burning like a flame, and passing on in the flower of their youth. The smarter and luckier of us perhaps find our way to becoming Odysseus: canny, wise, old, and finding happiness in the simple joys of hearth and home.

So here I am at the magical age. The day doesn’t feel any different from any other day. The heavens did not open up with significant signs. The earth did not move, since I don’t live in California. Or Washington DC. But I can’t help but reflect on a few things, especially with literally dozens of people on Facebook wishing me a happy birthday. Consider this my heartfelt thanks to all of you.

Hunger, and Satisfaction

The strangest thing about reflecting on the 40 milestone is the sense of being satisfied and hungry at the same time.

I think of my 20′s as the Age of Hunger. I had just graduated. The whole world was open before me with limitless opportunities. I was a smart young man in the Big City. Not having come from wealth (actually, we lived in a whole other zip code from wealth, in parts of town the smart people program their GPS to avoid), all I knew in my 20′s was hunger, ambition, desire. To prove myself. To learn more. To achieve something, and then achieve the next thing. It’s the beautiful, bountiful, bodacious energy of youth.

I crossed the threshold into 30 and felt as if I had finally grown up. I have since been disabused of that notion, and have actively sought to go backwards as much as possible, but… the 30′s were a calm decade marked more by satisfaction at what I had achieved in my 20′s, what I had learned in that decade of life, and some of the accomplishments. I got married. I became a father. I found professional happiness at some wonderful companies, and had edifying experiences at one or two really crappy companies. It is as if a young colt found its legs, pranced around enough, and came to realize… “Oh, so this is how I run!”

At 40, however, a man realizes that somewhere between half to two-thirds of his life (depending on your lifestyle, healthy habits or lack thereof, and so on) is behind him. One can’t help but look backwards, at least briefly, as if over the shoulder at a shadow seen out of the corner of the eye. And the thinking man can’t help wonder, just what is it that I have accomplished with these four decades on this earth? And asking that question, I am caught up in the juxtaposition of satisfaction and a newfound ambition.

Ambition, hunger — these are rekindled because the accomplishments, no matter how great and interesting, are firmly in the past. To simply follow that path from the bygone days of memory to the present and into the road ahead is… fine. But there’s something unsettling about the idea. It’s as if I am surrendering to the idea that my best days are behind me: I’ve scratched and clawed and fought and climbed my way to this place, and I am ready to coast a while now. Maybe such a path is eminently sensible, but having spent my later 30′s learning that I really haven’t grown up all that much yet, I’m not ready to call it a Job Well Done. Not yet. No, like Dylan Thomas, I will rage against the dying of the light. Whatever it is that I have learned, whatever skills I have honed, whatever hard-earned wisdom I have gained (for each jot and tittle of which I have paid, and paid, and paid again)… I see as not accomplishments in and of themselves, but preparation for whatever it is that lies ahead. I find that I am hungry again.

But at the same time, sitting at dinner listening to my two little sons sing me happy birthday with total disregard for tune, tonality, and the laws of music… I can’t help but be satisfied. Running around on a typical busy Wednesday, but fielding calls with my agent, with the builder, with the mortgage people, all working on our new home, and knowing that we have built a certain amount of financial security… it is well nigh impossible for a poor immigrant kid from the ghetto not to feel blessed at the life I have. Throughout the day, being able to get on the phone with business associates and people I respect so much in our quirky, strange, twisted little industry, and know that they consider me a colleague… it is impossible not to feel a sense of satisfaction.

And most of all, getting phone calls and Facebook messages, and emails and tweets throughout the day (while I was out running around on a typically busy Wednesday), I can’t help but be satisfied at the people I’ve met over these four decades of journey, struggle, and accomplishment… I can’t help but be pleased at having friends both old and new, and friends I have not yet met. Some of the greatest human beings on the planet, I have met in the past few years… quite a few of them because of this blog and these too-long ramblings. I can’t even help but be pleased at the few enemies I have made along the way, for who they are, and what they are, define me as well.

So let me say this: all of you who are reading this right now, you honor me. With your attention, sometimes with your comments, rarely with your insults, and often with your friendship. You make life interesting, challenging, fun, and make the journey just a little bit easier. To the haters — you also honor me with your hate, for you are beneath contempt and the praise of low characters is worthless indeed.

So thank you all. Today, I am well satisfied with my blessed life. And yet, I hunger again. The spark is rekindled into an open flame.

Watch what happens from now. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I look forward to making that journey over the next decade with you all. I got nothing but love 4 you.

http://www.notorious-rob.com/

I’m here because my friends loved me and believed in me and sent me to a world class leadership program. I’m alone because I must be, and I’m getting a tree on my back because the tree is the symbol of my true life.

Beauty and pain are inextricably linked. Authenticity–what my new tattoo represents–is not possible without pain.

So, many years ago I set clear intentions for my life:  I want my insides to match my outsides. I want to be real. I want to live authentically. I knew at the time that this was not an easy task. I knew it would cost me things to live out those intentions. Mostly I knew that I would have to drastically change for those intentions to turn into reality.

Today–I turn 40.

I’m here to tell you that it is possible to live an authentic life. I’m finding authenticity growing in my own life. More and more what the world sees is really what is going on inside me.

Truth. My life has never been better. Ever.

I get to do what I love every day. I have the most amazing friends in the world. I get to be a dad to two smart, beautiful, accomplished, and kind children. I get to experience relationships with truth and intimacy.

But, like in the tattoo parlor, this beauty doesn’t come painlessly. In early June, my personal life came crashing apart. My biggest fear came true and my closest relationship came to an abrupt end. I was abandoned. I was devastated. I could barely breathe. I have never experienced such searing pain.

It was in these moments that my friends showed up. They have shown up emotionally. They have shown up physically from all over. They have shown up financially. I have been loved in the midst of my vulnerability.

What I have learned from these friends is that I am believed in. That I made a difference in their life and in my need they want to do the same for me. I have learned that I am valuable just as I am—just because I am Ken.

I enter my 40s in the best place I have ever been.

Join me in my celebration of authenticity. Discover for yourself what being real looks like. Enter into it. Experience it. Tell me what you discover.

Via Intentblog Written by Christine Arylo

What if fear no longer stopped you from your dreams?

What is it that you really want right now?

Not from your head or your ego, or what you think you should have to make you happy.

Go deeper.

To the place where real dreams, dreams worth having and dreams that actually have the power to manifest in reality come from.

Go in to your heart.

Who already knows exactly what dream is raising its hand screaming, “Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!!”

Who already knows the first few steps you could take right now to turn it from dream to reality.

What does your heart have to say?

Can you hear her or him?

Okay, let’s do this together.

Close your eyes right now.

Take a breath and put your hand on your heart and ask, “What is the one dream I have for myself that right now is most important to me?”

What does your heart say?

And if you were to ask “What is the one or two steps that I can take in the next three days to move towards that dream?”

What does your heart say?

And wait, one more question…

“What is the one thing that will stop me from this dream becoming real?” What does your heart say?

Okay, just one more…

“If I didn’t listen to fear but instead to the truth in my heart, what do I know?”

Whew! Great work moving past your fear into love… if you were really listening to your heart when you did this exercise, then when you asked yourself what would stop my dream from becoming real, you would have felt your heart contracting, fluttering or some kind of feeling that was BLAH! That’s because fear had the microphone!

And as an ambassador of Team Love, I’m just not going to let fear win over you and smash your dream. All you have to do is take the love dare!

SELF-LOVE DARE…

Take one giant step toward your dream!

1.Write down the guidance you received in your journal, on a piece of paper, heck even a sticky note. Just somewhere you can see it.

2.Then write down, say out loud or share with a friend the one or two actions you are going to take in the next 3 days to take a giant leap toward

If you need some extra support connecting to your Inner Wisdom and her Team Love message about your dreams – you can download the video meditation I created.

Wherever this finds you today, read this knowing that fear only has the power you provide it and at any time you have a choice … To choose to have faith in LOVE or to choose to have faith in FEAR. I really encourage you to try on having faith in LOVE. And of course, that love starts with the love you have for yourself. Love yourself well today. You deserve it.

PHOTO (cc): Flickr / Augustine Press

So 3 months into this being 40 thing and I am learning so much about becoming an “older” woman. Well, if I’m being honest, I have been privy to a lot of this for a while now, but it seems that somehow when you actually become 2 scores, everything is magnified by 10 like the ugly side of those vanity mirrors and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make it stop. So here are a few things that you discover once you start to crest the hill (which incidentally I will be doing for at least another 10 years).

1. Your body makes lots of new and strange noises. Now one could ask, “how is that any different than being a teenaged boy?” Well, I am happy to answer. You see, teenaged boys are usually making these sounds on purpose, either with their mouths, or other body parts. But a woman over 40? She is usually just as surprised as everyone else when a joint creeks or her behind suddenly learns how to play the trumpet. Most of the time, if you ask her what that sound was, she is just as clueless as you are.

2. You suddenly develop the ability to REALLY multi-task in some new and exciting ways, for instance, you can gain an obscene amount of fat/weight, while simultaneously being able to build massive muscle in a very short amount of time. I have completely stopped using weights when I workout because I don’t want to end up looking like a chubby linebacker.

3. Piggy backing off of number 2, you are secretly convinced that you are not going through the change, you are really turning into a man. You know this because you have more facial hair than your male significant other, you develop the appetite of a lumber jack, and you’re horny at sunrise like a teenaged boy with morning wood (I’m sensing an ongoing theme here).

4. And the final thing that you have to get used to is the fact that guys your age are suddenly no longer attracted but guys your son’s age want to benefit from your years of experience and are fascinated by your newly acquired natural double Ds that you hate because nothing with a waist or without fits right anymore. You, in essence have become a cougar, which you don’t mind so much because how else are you going to satisfy that morning urge? (That is of course if you are single).

Having said all this, I would never want to be in my 20s again. Especially considering that I was a very new, very high strung young wife, and smack dab in the middle of having and taking care of home and babies. Seriously, I would rather plank on hot coals than do go through that ordeal again…okay, maybe not.

Mostly I’ve been trying to avoid it, but now with just a few days to go, I absolutely can’t. I guess it happens to us all and now it’s just my time to go through it. I’ve been looking at the other posts here and it seems to be a pretty mixed bag. Some people being positive about it and others absolutely dreading it.

If I’m honest, I haven’t exactly been enjoying the experience. Everytime someone mentions my birthday, I feel myself tense up inside and hope that they don’t mention 40. I don’t like that I’m not where I want to be in my life and that everyone else seems to be married with children. I am trying to do as many positive things as possible, joining new clubs and taking up new activities. I guess that and trying to smile through the whole thing is just about all I can do.

Turning 40 is a milestone in a person’s life, but here is what can make it a traumatic event. Our society has an unwritten handbook of rules. There are certain things we should have achieved by the time we reach a certain age, and if just one or two of those things are missing, we tend to feel like a failure. It’s a set of rules most of us seem to be affected by, whether we realize it or not. I am the first to admit there are things I have yet to accomplish, things I thought would be in place by this age. However, life doesn’t always line up with what you expect it to be.

I spent two days celebrating entering my 40s. The night before, I went to see Bon Jovi in concert for the second time. The next day, I bought a german chocolate cake. The day felt like being on a long rollercoaster ride. I was thankful, sad, confused.. wondering what to do next, where to go with my life. I walked around in a fog, and the overcast skies didn’t help very much.

The good thing is there is still time to do the things I want to do, to get the life I’d like to have. Not that my life is so bad now. It just feels somewhat incomplete. The thing to do is take this time, and use it to the fullest, to make it productive. You are never too old to dream, to see those dreams turn into reality, and come true. This has become my focus. Being in your 40s is far from the end. It’s a turning of the page.

Once I stopped feeling blue and in a funky daze, the sun began to come out. Happy B-day to me.

More from Kelli

It’s amazing reading all the comments here. A whole site dedicated to turning 40; there are a lot of us marching towards it. I never thought about it much and now it’s nearly here I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m not exactly where I thought I’d be in my life right now. I still share a flat with friends, I’ve never been married, have no children and I don’t even have a boyfriend. Sometimes I feel angry and hurt, left out, lonely. Mostly I just get on with it and smile to cover it all up. That’s why it’s nice to be here and share.

I feel like I blinked and when I opened my eyes a whole decade had gone. There’s nothing for it now, but to desperately stay positive (which despite many many good things can be tough) and hope that there’s still time. Dealing with being 39 and preparing to enter a new decade continues to be challenging. Who knows what the next step will bring!

In my younger years I was always searching searching searching. Although it wasn’t really clear to me what I was searching so hard for.

When I was 16 I met the definition of what I wanted
When I was 18 I stole my fathers car and ran away to California.
When I was 19 I came home from California
When I was 19 I made the biggest mistake of my life
When I was 20 I met the best thing that ever happened to me.

I’m acutely aware of how quickly it is all moving. I look at myself and I feel the same. I got some girth compared to my svelte 20 self but not to shabby. I have Geoff, an amazing Dude man, family, friends, job and life. And it scares the heck out of me. Now, I’m not searching. I found it. And its going way to fast. My life has gone to plaid!

It hasn’t come without its struggles and hardships. Although I like to think that my life has been gifted to me on a platinum platter, I’ve certainly put my best foot forward. I’ve always been determined to get what I want no matter how hard I have to work for it. And for the most part that has worked out for me. And this got me thinking about how I got to be who I am today. I don’t really know the answer to that but I have some theory’s.

When I was 9 I was attacked by our family dog. I had a ridiculous amount of stitches in my face and under my chin. A week later I begged my mother to take me into school so I could get my things and see my friends. I walked right into that class room like, see?? no big deal folks just a couple scratches but no big deal. NO BIG DEAL???? REALLY???? I never saw my scars. I never looked at my face and thought it was flawed. I got bit by a dog what do you expect? And do you know to this day some dummy will ask me: What is that on your chin?? A hickey? And my response has been the same all these years. No bleep I got bit by a dog! There do you feel stupid now? Good!

I baby stepped my way through my career. But I worked my fanny off proving myself along the way. No was never an option unless of course it was a “hard” NO! Nobody handed me anything or made it so easy that it was a no brainer. I’m good with that. I never got in trouble with out a consequence. Thus I learned to not get caught..[sorry mom and dad, some things must remain sacred]

I’ve been squashed, punched, kicked, verbally assaulted and I never gave up. I never give up. So now that I stopped “searching” I would also like it if time slowed down just a bit.

No wonder when you are elderly you can’t remember things! It goes by so fast you can’t believe that much time has gone by. And that bridge game you played with Phyllis didn’t that just happen last week?

I’ve set no ridiculous goals for this year. I think the most important thing to do is to be sure that I’m looking outside the bubble and enjoying as much as I can!

Don’t you????

more from Rene at http://www.thereneechronicles.com

As I approached 40, I decided I would no longer bottle feelings up inside. Already I feel more free and light-hearted. Why didn’t I come to this conclusion before?!?! One of my co-workers had been telling me for years that once you hit your 40s you start to accept yourself more, spend less time worried about what others think….and she was right!

I love being 40. I love being comfortable in my skin and accepting who I am. I love that I am still alive and have a family that loves me. In three years I will pass the age that my mom died. I am grateful for each day that I have with my family and know they will always love me…no matter what color my hair turns or how many lines reveal themselves on my face down the road.

The latest thought as of last weekend to creep in my mind was- as the weather has started to cool down a little- “Man, I have maybe 35-40 Autumn’s left if I’m lucky”. Then there are thoughts of my past that well up. Having had kids in our early 20′s, our lives were all about them. Sometimes I feel as if I was a merely a paycheck at times. An overworked stressed out zombie and I missed out on my 20′s providing for the family, protecting them, teaching them what I thought was right and then working even more.

Is there a bright side to the madness?

I was deployed to Iraq earlier this year with a bunch of kids in their early 20′s. As I watched them spaz over everything from possible enemy contact to fights with their spouses I realized I was just like them when I was in my 20′s- an idiot. Over reacting to the smallest of issues, thinking every little thing might be the end of the world. As I most often calmly dealt with my young soldiers trying to get them to breathe and relax I gained a real appreciation for the transition to 40. I realized that if I took the culmination of the wisdom I have gained up to this point, focused on what I knew to be important and didn’t worry so much about what wasn’t important I would actually get to enjoy life with my less testosteroned, more relaxed, more mature self.

40 has surprisingly turned out be pretty cool. Still young enough to physically do anything (albeit with aches and pains as the cost) and self aware and relaxed enough to actually enjoy and appreciate life. Actually having some idea of what I truly enjoy and what I don’t has it’s pluses also.

Take a deep breathe and jump over the hill.

http://www.flickr.com/people/semperteneo/

http://www.cypresssun.blogspot.com

I decided to go in denial and took a mini sabbatical to Latin America to learn Spanish instead of having the big 40th birthday party with friends and family. I spent the initial part of the trip with a travel age of 35 thereby celebrating my “36th” birthday party in wine country at an asado with fellow travellers!

I think 40 gives you the confidence to try out new experiences such as a 50km bike ride in a gorge, scaling a precipice over a waterfall barefoot, socialising with fellow travellers a decade younger, being wined and dined by men a decade younger…

I have to say reaching 40 was a blast and perhaps I should not have been quite so in denial about the number. In any case, it can often be a catalyst for change and I certainly turned the experience into an adventure!

Needless to say I have not achieved the traditional benchmarks such as marriage and children and was able to take off on a whim..

The ugly – one year ago I left my abusive partner, no children thank goodness! It took me 8 months to sort out who the hell I was! After being bed wench, cuppa maker, housemaid & cook for 13 years I lost myself.

I feel ‘free’ I am reclaiming myself! Yes I can save money! Yes I can have my own business! Yes I can pay all my bills, Yes I can travel, Yes I can hope, Yes I bloody well can….

Forty is the new 30 – my 30′s I gave myself away – my 40′s Im reclaiming the right to just be me!

Let me start at the beginning.

For my 40th birthday, I had a birthday party. I have family and friends around. My husband, son and 2 step daughters (kids are 7, 15, & 17 respectively) were also with me. I had a great time and really found myself embracing the 40 year old syndrome. I am reasonably active after work, but during the day, I have a day job and sit at a desk all day.

So, after my birthday, I continue with my life, but a funny thing started to happen, I started to feel more confident. It was like a revelation one day. I felt like I gave off an aura of confidence and I felt sexy!! I felt more sexy at 40 than I did in my 30′s. Maybe because I could flirt with younger men and know I could get away with it. (no sexual innuendo’s just flirt). Maybe I was embracing the cougar in me. I felt more comfortable in my skin. So, life is good…

Well then I started noticing little things, my size 8 shorts didn’t fit.. uh-oh I went to a size 10…o.k. I wanted to get back into the gym more often. I started doing the workout that I did at 37 and –oh my the size 10 shorts are getting..umm snug..I also added modifying my food intake–diet for all of the non-dieters–which is something i didn’t do before.

So I went to the doctor yesterday for my yearly appt. After that appt, I felt like I need to start applying to nursing homes. The doctor meant well but when I asked about the weight gain, she told me that it is normal and now we have to work extra hard to get rid of the fat and it is much easier for us to gain weight. (no –really–wow thanks for that info).

My aura of confidence has vanished, my sexiness–GONE—(and to top it off I am PMS’ing). I feel fat, horrible, old, and want to eat a box of Whoppers but can’t because I will gain weight in the middle.

So, I guess I better eat vegtables, fart like an old woman, and know that I will not wear a t-shirt that says spoiled rotten on it (the dog might though

At age 12, I was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes. “Blindness,” “kidney failure,” “amputation,” and “no children” were recurring words that accompanied the diagnosis. Determined to conquer this disease and lead a fulfilling life, I went on the insulin pump at age 17. Having diabetes has strengthened my faith, confidence, and sense of humor. If one can manage and laugh about the daily challenges and surprises of living with diabetes, then one can accomplish anything!

Shortly after turning 40, I was honored by the local chapter of the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF). This life-changing experience directly partnered me with JDRF and the work that is being done to cure diabetes.
via: More Magazine

my forties. My dad had 2 more children in his forties. My mom finished her college degree in her forties.

I’m wondering what will happen, what will I do, who will I meet, how will I grow, what will I learn, who I will become in this new chapter of my story.

I received some very precious birthday gifts…funny cards, yummy meals with friends and family, playground equipment given to a school in need in honor of today,Target Gift Cards, phone calls, e-mails, text messages, a beautiful necklace from my parents, hugs, a tender letter from my sis and a little girl saying “Happy Birthday, Momma” all day and even as she went to bed.

I have some birthday prayers for this new decade… losing_____pounds, learning photography, taking and passing an Editor's exam, getting out of debt, selling a house, buying a house, learning how to landscape, celebrating life and growth and the Lord with Cate, becoming more of the me God has created me to be…and two more…but I’ll keep those tucked in my heart.

Holy Father, thank You. Thank You for life. Thank You for the gift that it is and the gift it will be. Father, help me reflect Your light and Your heart.

via Manna for the Journey: Turning 40…Presents and Prayers.

Image via Wikipedia

Part 1

I remember the day I really started thinking about generational awareness, a topic (hell, a term) that before then mattered very little to me. I was a couple years into college and heard about a book circulating among the underground literati on the cusp of going mainstream.

The book’s author was Douglas Coupland, a first-time novelist from Vancouver who had unwittingly ordained himself the new voice of a generation. The book was called Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture. I found it at a little bookstore near campus—the only copy left—and when I bought it the clerk told me they couldn’t keep the book on shelves for more than a few days before selling out.

more of part 1

Part 2

I called the editor of a national college magazine I was writing for at the time and said I wanted to interview the authors ofGenerations and 13^th Gen. It was 1994, three years after the watershed year when Coupland, Linklater and others kicked off what was fast becoming Gen X’s dubious legacy. I eventually managed to get an interview with author William Strauss, one of the few public supporters Gen X could boast.

Strauss said a couple of things to me in the interview that really resonated and helped ferret out  facts from a landfill of pop media garbage. The first was that Gen X was the most pragmatic of the generations. We gravitated toward what works. Spiritualism and the New Age were fine for mystified enthusiasts, but not for rabidly skeptical pragmatists. Theory was great, but application was vital. Don’t distract me with bunnies in the clouds when there are problems to solve. And the old time religion—we’ll test its medal with a ball-peen hammer and see if it’s still standing when we’re done.

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Part 3

On the brink of turning 40, the  thing about generations that stands out to me most is how our differences slowly but inevitably evaporate. The stances that made me a generation warrior in my twenties really don’t matter much now.

As intense as the conflict was between Gen Xers and Boomers in the early 90s, you’d have thought we would never agree on anything, but much the opposite has happened. We agree on many things, as a recent PEW survey showed. And as it turns out, the Millennial generation isn’t too far removed.

A few examples:

Between Boomers, Gen Xers and Millennials, who thinks being a good parent is one of the most important achievements in life? According to PEW Research, most of us do, to the tune of 50-52%.

What about having a successful marriage—how does that rank in importance between the three generations? According to the same survey, we rank it all about the same, and not particularly high: 32-35%.

How about living a very religious life? We’re all also in agreement on that one, with Gen Xers and Boomers being just slightly more religious (21%) than Millennials (15%).

Who works more hours, Boomers or Gen Xers? According to the Families and Work Institute, they work roughly the same number of hours every week at their main jobs (an average of 45) – which also happens to be the longest number of hours for any living generation.

Who’s more dissatisfied with the state of the nation?  According to PEW, we’re all plenty dissatisfied, with Boomers (70%) more annoyed than Millennials and Gen Xers (55 and 57%).

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via True/Slant

People tend to ask things like “So, what’s it feel like being X?” no matter how old you are. Much to my own surprise, it really DID feel different looking into the mirror that morning and realizing that I was 40 years old! I had–like it or not–launched Me 2.0 and it felt great! Oddly and unexpectedly, I experienced a new-found optimism, almost an insouciant nonchalance of come-what-may. Things aren’t great: I’ll probably be out of work soon, I’ve spent all my savings making ends meet, and I’ve got a young family depending on me. These and other concerns have really been dragging me down for quite a while. Somehow turning 40 has empowered me stare all these things in the eye and smirk–if not totally burst out laughing! Really!

I was 18 at my mom’s 40th birthday party, and on that day I introduced her to the girlfriend who has been my wife for the last 17 years. Our oldest is only in 2nd grade, so it seems really odd to think about being the parent of a precocious college student at my age–I can finally begin to appreciate what I put my parents through! But more than that, I’ve come to realize how fast we burn through that unlikely accident which is our lives: it seems like just yesterday I was at mom’s party, and now I’m at my own…

For whatever reason, this past year I’ve become quite a student of family history and in so doing have developed a deep, personal and ineffable appreciation for that dash between the two dates of a person’s life. I’ve glimpsed the shadows of some forgotten ancestors by approximations of their dates alone, with others I’ve re-traced the paths of immigration, ship wrecks, joy, love, tragedy, war, child birth (and death), unprecedented success, and abject failure–all of which has contributed a verse to this powerful and on-going play. And without even a single one of whom I would never have been. And even as I was learning this, several of my kid’s baby teeth fell out and the adult teeth are well on their way. I too am contributing a verse…

I had put much thought into turn 40, taking it quite seriously. I had made the usual lists of things to do, etc. Oddly, I’ve trashed all that. Perhaps I had put too much thought into it. At present, the most important thing about turning 40 seems to be maintaining and fostering that precipitous sense of optimism which has befallen me. This, methinks, will become the rocket fuel propelling me through and beyond all of those other goals and aspirations I had dutifully, and perhaps mechanically, cataloged. This is my secret of 40.

Of course, Saturday night’s celebration may well be the root of all this. 40 falling on a Saturday, I had to celebrate big–over the top big. Had I not, I would have regretted it for the rest of my days. 40 has colored my 80. I threw a big party in a lodge overlooking an urban lake. I was simultaneously the caterer, the entertainment and the guest of honor! I smoked almost 70 pounds of brisket and pork (I have quite a reputation for this among my friends), and the guests brought all the fixin’s. I play in a rock and roll outfit (reliving my youth so that I can waste it this time!) and we delivered our best and most fun performance to date! Everyone was there: friends from junior high, high school, law school, former bosses and co-workers, old girlfriends, parents from kids’ soccer teams, even a long-lost favorite uncle. It was like the ending to the movie Big Fish–which, I think, is actually a funeral!

And in some ways, it was the simultaneous celebration of an ending and a beginning. The launch party for Me 2.0. The new version is out. Let the games begin!

I originally wanted to host a big party to celebrate, but time slipped by and here we are and I have no plans. My mother invited me out of town with her this weekend on a work related trip, but the rain is making me rethink the four hour drive.

SO here are the range of things I feel right now and I have no one definitive thing to attribute to. I am a relatively happy person with a relatively nice life, HOWEVER…

I am disappointed, let down, deflated, insecure, exhausted, overwhelmed, befuddled, weepy, sad, tired, underwhelmed, depressed, anti-social, and all together worn out.

I really can’t explain the tears streaming down my face. I would feel stupid to say that it has anything to do with a birthday. I really don’t care, but in fact I really do care. I don’t want to be 40; I was a hot shot in my 30s, a very young executive and all around superstar. I chose not to keep climbing that painful, life consuming ladder and now I have a job that gets me by, but gives me time with my family, which is what I want right now.

I am really pissed off that I won’t still be in my 30s. I hate it actually, but I have hated being close to 40 too. Gosh, I haven’t really admitted this before but I realize that I am resentful of this birthday. Seems like a line is drawn in the sand and I am being pushed across it.

What does this line mean anyway?

I am very appreciative I know what I know and that I have grown into the lovely person I am now. I know that my time on earth has brought me wisdom and a real sense of place, but I liked (maybe even gloated over) having reached that place two to three years before 40.

I sort of have this, “what’s next feeling.” Like once I cross that line, what do I do with myself? My 40 plus friends all say you’re gonna love your 40s, but I think they are full of shit. Not because their 40s aren’t wonderful, but I suspect that they aren’t going to be any different then my 30s.

A psychic once told me I was going to have a very rough time in my 30s, but once in my 40s, I’d have a huge weight lifted and be free of the burdens of my 30-something youth. My 30s have been filled with a LOT, and a lot of it was rough, so perhaps I should adopt a totally optimistic stance and glow with rays of sunshine.

But today, and maybe the last two days, I can’t do that. Maybe it’s the clouds, cold and rain, maybe it was the full moon two nights ago, maybe it’s the daylight savings time change, but maybe it is this looming birthday.

I appreciate the space to vent this. I bet I feel better tomorrow, but appreciate the chance to unload today. The tears are gone, anyway.