What is age?
This past weekend I turned 30. The big 3-0. Dirty thirty. Over the hill.
People wince in the assumption that I require sympathy for the heaviness found in the realization of my impending doom.
But the truth is:
I have been looking forward to my thirties since before I entered my twenties. I’ve looked forward to the wisdom that crowds around the eyes. The grace that caresses the cheek. The confidence that settles into the chest. The ease that sprawls out across the very essence of who you are.
I’ve looked forward to the languid yummy swoon of age and the power incarnate there. A welcome respite in contrast to the hurried whirlwind season of seeking in youth. No longer trying to prove oneself but rather simply ‘being’ oneself. Stretching out to the tips of your existence and pausing in the delicious ecstatic space found there between the fibers of your being.
Stepping into your power is a process that takes decades to do. One foot at a time, pulled up over the hips and here, we begin the slow sacred ritual of zipping. Leaving the insecurity and woe of youth puddled around our feet.
No hurry. No agenda. No theatrics. Just the knowing that someday, along with grayed tresses, well-loved skin, unwavering truths and impeccable words, we will suddenly find that we are all zipped up. A being, whole, healed and home. Eventually, the only sign of youth will be the twinkling mischievous eyes that have seen the full spectrum swing of life and have endless stories to tell….or to keep a mystery.
Eventually.
But for now, lets see what 30 is all about.
I’ve found that age is just a number. You can choose to count it in years or in blessings, joy and wisdom.
I spent the weekend being celebrated by my friends and family, exploring the city of Seattle and settling into this new season of life.
