Even though it’s three months away, I am already pondering my next birthday, because yep, you guessed it – I’m turning 40.
Forty years old.
When the hell did THAT happen? I swear, inside my head I vacillate between twenty-eight to thirty-two. Don’t get me wrong. I think my forties are going to be great, and my attitude about my thirties is ‘don’t let the door hit ya where the dog bit ya.” I guess I am just feeling pressure to do something…great. Beyond ordinary, normal and healthy living.
Write and publish a book.
Start a charity.
Adopt an orphan.
By the way, I realize there’s a big part of this that’s ridiculous. I get that having a healthy and happy family and marriage is something to celebrate. Really. I also believe, however, that each and every one of us must contribute something beyond our own personal happiness – something that’s uniquely ours to give.
There’s a part of me that feels like I’m running out of time to do this.
Anyway, so that’s what I’m thinking about these days.