My birthday was this week. I turned 50. Damn. I feel like I’m 5-years-old, most of the time, and usually act like it. Maturity shmaturity.
How can I act grown up when my grandmother, who is 88, still tells me to be good and sends me birthday cards with checks in them? I used to get so upset when I was younger and she’d tell me to be good. It felt like she didn’t trust me or believe that I could function without her input.
Eventually, I realized that it was just her way of showing how much she cared – and that she’d never stop saying it. I know she loves me, but the routine phrases we say to each other can be annoying, if we forget the intention behind them. It’s important to pause and remember the heart behind the offering.
Unfortunately, throughout the years, there were times that I ignored my grandmother’s advice and opted for being bad. I have the scars, aches and regrets to remind me that I should have listened to her and my mom and dad. It’s funny how the most important stuff in life is usually learned at an early age. We just tend to forget it, on purpose, to see if we can truly get away with something. Not often.
Compared to the Ted Bundys, Bernie Madoffs and Enrons that are killing, raping and stealing some people blind, I come in on the Badometer at about .002 out of 100. Oh, believe me, I’ve said and done some harsh things, causing people pain and grief, but it’s all relative. Relatives and loved ones are usually the first in line to get sucker-punched when you don’t measure up to their vision of what good looks like. Please forgive me for when I’ve been a fool. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.
Being 50 means I need to get my ass in gear. I feel like I’m just getting started. I’ve wasted away a lot of my life on frivolous things, having loads of fun in the process, but there is something calling me to do more with the remaining years. I’ll still have fun and enjoy the journey, but it feels appropriate to say that some of the fears and concerns of youth no longer whisper so loudly, at night, when I’m dreaming of bigger things.
Age is a state of mind. Speaking with my family, this week, as they wished me a Happy Birthday, having the same talks with each other that have filled many hours and days o’er many years, I fully recognize and appreciate that spending time with family and sharing this thing called life is truly precious.
I believe they know and feel how much they mean to me. If I’ve failed to say it enough, then I document it, now: I love and respect you, deeply, and can in no way repay you for the kindness, generosity and love you’ve shown me in the first 50 years of my life. I only hope that I can pay it forward, and that my children and grandchildren will forgive me where I fail to measure up to your high standards.
My dear parents have been most generous, as well, and they are not rich. It’s humbling to have them offer so much when I feel I can’t return it, materially, and wonder if I ever will be able to reciprocate. Learning to receive can be as difficult as learning to give. Balance is crucial.
To my friends, acquaintances and loved ones, I offer you the same love and respect, and hope you forgive my human foibles. It’s tough being a star child trapped in this body and trying to keep my feet firmly planted on the planet; a stranger in a strange land. Together, I think we can do the next 50 years holding hands, hugging and laughing about all the stupid shit we’ve survived.
“God” is laughing. I fully intend to find out what the joke is and whether I’m it. Until then, I hope to lighten up and laugh a little, too, especially when the world is shifting and consciousness is forever giving birth to itself. Birth is a bloody and painful process, but anything worth having, holding and nurturing can feel torturous, at times.
Remember to breathe, keep your focus on the image of divine beauty that all life is and be amazed at the process. Don’t sweat the small shit. Wipe it up and move on. It’s just a lamp; she didn’t mean to break it. For god’s sake, he was playing, put down the belt. Can you not remember what it’s like to be a kid?
Hug your children, today. Call your family. Smile. Stop and stare at a tree, knowing you can’t make one. Feel the force of Source coursing through your every fiber of Being. Be present, now, then rinse, lather and repeat.
Some say life is short. Yes and no. Life is eternal, but the form you are in, at present, may have an expiration date stamped on its ass, somewhere you can’t see. Sure, try looking in the mirror to find it, if you’re concerned, or get a little help from a friend (make it a close friend, please), then go a little easier on the bad food, good beer and umpteen vices you allow yourself because you’re living it up.
Living it up can kill you. Living the good life may be a bad idea. You have the power to change your lifestyle, if you really want to. Remember, it’s mind over matter before belly over belt. Put down that 55-gallon Slurpee and the 4th slice of double-crust, cheese-filled and bacon-topped Squeeze My Heart Pizza. If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for your kids and grandkids.
Eat less, walk more and live longer. I hope to see you in another 50 years. Oh, and be good, especially if granny is still willing to send you a check. Sometimes, the strings that are attached, tugging at your heart, are far healthier than greasy cheesy pizza, any day.
I hope I can send my grandchildren money when I’m 88. Heck, I hope I can make it to 88 . . . even if the piggy bank is empty. There are more important things than money. Awareness and appreciation come to mind. I’d rather have that than all the gold in the world.
The Kat
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