I thought this was a good-bye, but it turns out it’s a hello
It was my birthday a couple of weeks ago. I turned 59 and it felt oddly momentous. At first, I thought it was because I’m finally starting the last year of what has been a supremely painful and stunningly transformative decade. I spent a day or two trying out a saucy attitude of “See ya, 50’s!”, but that didn’t feel right. It actually felt “cringey.” As if I were dismissing the profound gift of (hopefully) 365 more days of precious life.
It took another week but I finally sorted out why being 59 feels so significant. The year I was 29, my husband and I decided to start our family. The year I was 39, I decided to open my yoga studio. The year I was 49, I started teaching yoga philosophy at a local university. So the stirring mix of feelings I’m having – anticipation, trepidation, and wonder – as I start the year that I am 59 are less of an emphatic “good-bye and good riddance” and more of a quiet, curious “hello.”
I seem to have outgrown an old way of being and, to that, I say, “Good riddance!”
It is interesting to me that this realization has not sent me off on a mad dash of pondering, planning and plotting. That feels like a behavior that used to fit, but that I’ve now outgrown. Mysteriously, what I find myself pondering is whether I will next read a novel or a non-fiction book. What I am planning is a late-spring vacation. What I am plotting is a vegetable and herb garden. In short, a whopping two weeks into the year, 59-year-old me seems to be living in the moment.
You don’t need to “arrive” to enjoy the walk
For my birthday, my daughters gave me a book called The Little Book of Joy: For When Life Wants to Celebrate. I haven’t gotten very far into it because early on I came across this gem:
“Take my hand. We will walk. We will only walk. We will enjoy our walk without thinking of arriving anywhere.” – Thich Nhat Hanh
I’m a big believer in reading books in “slow motion” – stopping when exactly what you need to find appears. I may not read on anytime soon, because this is exactly what I needed to find. This is how I’d like to live the year that I’m 59 – seeking joy in every step that I take.
I think that living this way invites two qualities – attentiveness and openness. Because I’ll be paying attention, it is less likely that I will miss any milestone-inducing choices that might appear. Because I will be “enjoying my walk,” I will be open to any surprising possibilities that might come my way, as has happened in my past three years-that-end-with-nine. And, should one not appear, all will be well because I will be savoring the heck out of this particular year that ends with nine.
In every moment there is space for joy
An even more amazing gift (perhaps less a birthday present than a gift of age?) is one that seems to have suddenly shown up in my heart and yet already feels deeply rooted. I hope and pray that it sticks around. It is the quiet hope that I will continue to find things to celebrate every day in the coming year. No matter what I may decide or what may come my way this year that I am 59, I trust that joy will be a part of it. After all, in this most trying of decades, joy has somehow always been there waiting to surprise me in the moment.
As my birthday gift to myself, I’m going to focus on this. Perhaps you’d like to join me? The more, the merrier, after all.
In verse 12 of chapter two of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, we are taught that when we focus on exactly what we’re doing or exactly what is happening right now, without getting caught up in the desire for the results of what we’re doing or what is happening, we will feel (and be!) settled and balanced. In other words, if I live each moment of being 59 without getting entangled in the idea that something significant must happen in order for this year-that-ends-with-nine to be worthy of my past years-that-ended-with-nine, it will be a darn good year no matter what does or doesn’t happen.