Above: Birthday Eton Mess at The Kitchen in Boulder, Colorado, with former elephants Pam Uhlenkamp & Merete Mueller (photo). And, Redford, the dog.
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I turned 37 on Saturday. Here’s what I’ve learned:
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…okay, not much.
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In any case, 37 might be one of the coolest ages. I’m still (more or less) young, physically, but emotionally I’ve had my arse kicked so many times by life that I’ve learned (more or less) not to get too freaked out by the big waves, or sad or mad about the bad surf days.
It’s getting to be a fruitional time, for me. I’ve been through the three hardest years of my life (when I took elephant from a magazine, online, and didn’t make any money, and my house went into foreclosure, I gave up my office and staff, yadayadayada). Before that, I had a long, hard, fun 6 years building up elephant magazine out of nothing. Before that, I had a long, hard, fun 3.5 years working for Shambhala Mountain Center. So I haven’t had a break, now, for 12 years or something. That’s okay. I can feel one coming on. I can feel some relaxation, celebration, ease, love, family…all good things coming to me.
I don’t know that you care, particularly—but I thought I’d share this happiness. I’ve had such a rough time, that if any of you gave me a glass of good scotch and a slightly-too-long hug, I’d start bawling on your shoulder. I need a good cry.
Life is overful, sometimes, apparently. Precious, short. Memories fade. But I, and you, have that most lucky of opportunities: our life, however long. As Robin Williams puts it in Dead Poets, it’s our command to suck the marrow out of life. Carpe Diem.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQtmGcdSDAI
Because, before I (and you) know it, it’ll all be >poof<…gone with the wind.
I look forward to the next, say, 12 years. I’ll work hard and hopefully be of some benefit. I’ll take elephant (with your help, and our amazing team of volunteers headed up by Bob Weisenberg) to first tier national prominence as a force for mindfulness in the daily life of millions. I’ll take a little time for myself, and recommit to my Buddhist practice of meditation (which I do every day, twice a day, but not enough). If I’m lucky, I’ll more fully become friends with myself, and get to be a part of a family that does loud really well, does second chances, does grace, sorry, and second chances. In the meantime I’ll thank my past lovers for being among my greatest teachers, and (with the occasional relationship sabbatical) get my heart broke up again, and again, in different places.
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