First Half Century

On Sunday I will complete the first half century of my life.  Doesn't it sound cool?  A half century. Jan likes to say "half a hundred," and I like the alliteration of it, but half a century just sounds so solid.  I'm very excited.  It's the start of a new half century, a new decade, a new year.  50.  I don't know why I'm so excited, but I am.  I bumped into a former parishioner at the grocery store today who said she'd been weighing whether to send me a card that included the number 50.
"Of course," I said, laughing.  "I think it's cool."

My adult life has seemed to be organized in decades, and each time I enter a new one, I wonder, "What life changing thing will happen in the next ten years.?"

The 20s were my theatre years.  I finished college, interned at the Berkshire Theatre Festival and Actors' Theatre of Louisville, taught a year of high school drama, spent five summers at Interlochen, and moved to Virginia to work at Virginia Stage Company for twelve year, with summer stints in PA and RI.  I attended church, mostly as a stealth parishioner, traveled some during spells of in-between-employment, and suffered through a variety of temp jobs and substitute teaching.  I bought a house toward the end of that decade and started to grow restless.

The year I turned 30, I went to the Holy Land on a pilgrimage with my church and began exploring a call to ordination.  The rest of that decade was spent discerning my call, jumping through hoops, three years of seminary, ordination as deacon and then priest, and my first year of ministry.  When I told people in the theatre that I was going to seminary, many laughed, thinking I was pulling their leg.  "I'm serious," I would tell them.  They couldn't imagine such a dramatic shift, so many of them refugees from the religion that had hurt them or cast them out.  Everything had to change, and it did, and yet, it seemed to be the fulfillment of the longing I had felt all my life to serve God.  The first time I celebrated the Eucharist, I thought this is what I was born for.

Turning 40 was the first time a birthday was hard for me.  It signaled that I most likely wouldn't be having any biological children.  Not impossible, but not likely.  I had a lot of grieving to do for a life that I had imagined.  Even when we choose the road less traveled and it makes all the difference, and we're leading a good life, there is still grief for other roads not taken, and it's important to feel the loss so that it can move on through.  This has been a decade of inner work as well as outer work. Much healing has happened, as I've experienced my first 10 years of ordained life: Hickory Neck Church and CNU campus ministry, SpiritWorks and Bruton Parish.  Jan.  I realized in a conversation with my spiritual director that the pool of sadness which lurked deep inside me is no longer there - or no longer as large.  How grateful I am.

Sunday I begin the 50s.  I've decided that 50 will be fun.  I don't have big plans for my birthday.  It falls on a Sunday, so I will be in church - no place I'd rather be than doing what I was born to do.  Planning a nice lunch and maybe a little kayaking and a nap.  We'll see.  My retreat was a present to myself.  I think I'm going to start tap class on Wednesday.  And maybe Jan and I will go to Greece with our little bear in the coming year.  Hopefully I'll finish my book.  Perhaps I'll even get something published.
Who knows what's next?  Here am I, God.  Your servant is listening.

One of my favorite lines from Sunday in the Park with George, "A blank page or canvas. His favorite.  So many possibilities."

The next half century:  So many possibilities...

49! And Going Strong

Today is my 49th birthday.  It's been quite a week.  On Wednesday at the SpiritWorks Women's Group, we celebrated several birthdays, including mine, with coconut cake, cards and laughter.  I received a locket with a labyrinth on it that has quickly become a favorite.  Yesterday, on my birthday eve, as I like to call it, I walked into SpiritWorks and saw a box of Godiva chocolates awaiting me with a beautiful card signed by members of the SpiritWorks community.  Then, in the late afternoon, Lynn Smyth and Jan surprised me with a gathering of friends from SpiritWorks and Bruton.  What a delightful end to the work week.  Tomorrow I leave for a retreat at Valle Crucis in North Carolina, where I will spend the week in a hermitage: hiking in the mountains, writing, reading, resting, and best of all, hanging out with God.  This year I will be on the brink of a new decade of life as well as starting a new decade of ordained ministry.  Seems like a good time to be quiet and listen to God.

For awhile now I have been struggling with what I suppose to be peri-menopausal symptoms that mostly affect my mood.  Anxiety/agitation takes over my body, making me feel like I'm crawling out of my skin.  Depression/hopelessness drags me down, making everything seem difficult.  Fatigue saps my energy and causes me to feel like I'm struggling through molasses to get up in the morning and then frequently overtakes me during the day.  Some days I just put one foot in front of the other.  I've tried many things with varying degrees of success, but recently the fatigue and roller coaster emotions have really been tough.  Thursday I went to Acupuncture Works for my first session of acupuncture, at the recommendation of my therapist.  I hate needles, and I've been known to pass out when giving blood.  But I've been so miserable that I was willing to try anything.

They say acupuncture doesn't hurt, and it's true.  Mostly.  I did feel a little prick from a couple of the needles, but only briefly, and not enough to be upsetting.  With a lavender eye mask over my closed eyes, resting comfortably with pillows supporting my head and knees, I felt like I was floating.  I drifted into what I call "lala land," a place that is almost sleep, but not quite - a place that I imagine some people experience in meditation but I almost never do.  I floated there, head chatter fading after a few minutes, feeling a deep, peaceful rest.  When the session was over, I felt spacey.  That evening I was a little off, going through short spurts of moods, even while I was walking the labyrinth.

Then came what I consider a minor miracle.  Or maybe not so minor.  On Friday morning I woke up before my alarm and had energy!  I don't realize how poorly I'm feeling until I feel good again. And yesterday was truly remarkable.  I had energy all day.  Even with all the cake and other sweets that I ate!  All week I had felt like I was running on the last wisps of fumes of fuel in my tank.  Today I also woke up with energy.  I am so grateful.

I love birthdays.  I always have.  It's the one day we get to celebrate ourselves and how amazing it is that God put us here on this earth.  It's our own personal new year's day.  I've never been one to hide from or dread birthdays.  (There was some grief at 40 when I realized I was probably not going to have children, so that one was bittersweet.)  I embrace them.  I am 49, almost half a century.  Thanks be to God.  My birthday wish is that all of us find joy in each day and love each other well.  May we all know the love of the one who created us and spread that love with abandon.  And may we all wake up with energy and purpose, facing our challenges and blessings with grace and returning to sleep each night with gratitude in our hearts.