Pushing Forty

Yeah it's true, I'm so close to forty that it doesn't seem old to me anymore, it almost seems normal.  And if you know anything about me, normal is not normal for me.  So this whole aging thing, well it's one of the easiest things in life to do because there is nothing to do but be.  You will grow old whether or not you follow your dreams, whether or not you get your shit together and whether or not you want to.  Life happens the way it happens regardless of the fact that you wanted it to happen another way.

When you've been alive longer than Jesus himself, you'd think you might have done something or something.  But I've always felt that this doing business is overrated.  I think it's being that's the real thing.  At 38, am I the person I want to be?

The answer is a resounding yes.  I've actually grown to like myself.  I don't know how it happened or when exactly it happened, but apparently I'm ok with me.  I became a writer because I like to think out loud, in a way that expresses who I am.

But the question remains: Who am I?

It may come as a shock to you, but one thing I'm not is perfect.  I'll give you that I'm unique, just like everyone else.  I'm ok though, I think I'm ok.  It's taken a while for me to be ok with me.  I don't know about you but I used to care what other people thought of me.  Now I care more about what I think of other people.

And one thing is for sure, I'm not done being or doing.  I want one person in this universe to tell me I changed their life.  Just one.  Whether it be through my writing or teaching or just by being me.  That's when I will feel truly successful.

So what have I learned in 38 years?  I've learned how to love me and other people and life itself.  I believe I'm here to love, and I don't always love the shit that life throws at me, but I love that every experience makes me, more me.

You know I could die today, but when am I gonna live like I could die today?  If there is one thing I want for the next 38 years it is to really live.  You know that song "I hope you dance?"  I hope I dance for the next 38 years.  I hope I laugh a lot.  I want the 38 to be better because I know better.