Monday, September 26, 2011

What is so frightening about being 40?  Take a look at TMZ or Twitter, and you realize how age-obsessed a huge swath of the population is.  The truth is, when I turned 40, there was no 'I'm 40' freak out.  There was no rush to the mirror, checking for new lines on my face, no pulling at the gray hairs that have been creeping in for some time now.  There was a feeling that perhaps I should be doing this things, as some of my friends suggested, but alas, looking back, all I felt was a sense of relief.  The Dirty Thirties were over.  And I was finally getting all of the mud out from under my nails.  My thirties were a cesspool, nasty divorce, nasty physical and mental abuse perpetrated by myself and others I loved, and nasty addictions.  The only obvious beacon of the entire decade was the birth of my daughter, but amazingly, from the rest of the filth that I thought would suffocate me came a hidden, divine light that I never thought possible.  At 40, I was finally able to recognize this light.  I came to see what is possible, and what I am capable of.  I finally feel as though I fit in somewhere, and where I fit in is within myself. What a revelation.