The game of life requires skill, luck, perseverance, and a willingness to roll the dice when it is your turn. Decade by decade I have alternately followed the rules, broken the rules, re-read the rules and, in my 5th decade, I re-wrote the rules.
I became transparent at age 50, over-sharing my successes and failures with anyone that would listen. I declared that 50 was nifty. Never one to read a road map with success, I became my own cartographer, charting the course for my 50s, 60s, 70s and beyond. The road I picked was a double black diamond slope – fun as hell with a strong possibility of a tough break before reaching the bottom of the course.
By age 51 life threw so many balls my way that I taught myself to juggle. As someone who never wore hats even as a child, now my adult closet needed a hat rack. I was a Cat in Hats. I was a mother, wife, daughter, working woman, friend, and student – a juggling, caffeine-amped, sleep-deprived hot Southern mess.
Somewhere along that Black Diamond run I caught glimpses of lovely scenery as I whipped my way through the days. For the first time I saw the other side of 50 and it looked good. I cut back on caffeine, slept more, ate less and challenged myself to take a few chances.
At age 57 (Pisces baby) the other side of 50 still looks good. Change and growth are tonics for what ails you. I think about how fun it is to shake up and sharpen up the edges of life when they start to dull.
I think of aging as life’s next adventure. I accept getting older but I reject “getting old”. I believe that growing pains are not only for toddlers and teens but for the timeworn as well. No pain. No gain.
