Risk and Return

I'm hurtling toward my 52nd birthday. I cleverly tucked it into the calender between now and an upcoming vacation so I might overlook it. Try as I might to smooth those pages, there is still a bump pushing from beneath the glossy March page. Last week I had three beautiful, honest conversations that helped me face and accept what I'm feeling.

This is it. Middle Age. I've been here for a couple years, I've been numb. Now I'm feeling again.

You know what? I'm quasi-OK with it.

I told you those conversations were honest. The first was with my nurse. We work together but we're also friends. I'm grateful for that friendship. Being mature and single women, we often bounce personal issues back and forth - not so personal as to interfere with our working relationship but enough to allow trust to flow between us. I won't go into the gritty details of the conversation but what came out of it is my desire to step up my physical presentation of myself to the outside world.

The second conversation was with my best friend, Daryl. We had dinner after an evening at a design show. We'd been walking through exhibits, meeting and greeting, shaking hands, hugging, smiling and laughing. It was nice to take time to quietly reconnect with him, to take time for a meal, and to honestly let him know - again - how I'm being challenged with work (and loneliness) and feelings of not fulfilling my full potential. In life. In general. These feelings have been welling up over the last few months and the question that keeps arising for me is, "What are you going to do about it?" Wait, you don't think we came up with answers, do you?

I hope some of the answers lie in my third conversation, the ongoing one I've been having with myself. I've been listening to myself. It's a learned skill for me. I've very good at listening to others but for years I've ignored what I need and want. Lately, what I've heard myself say more than anything else is that I want to take risks. Being safe is not satisfying to me. The thought of living out this life mediocre is...unthinkable.

Just as I haven't shared with you the entirety of the conversations with my friends, neither will I share here all of my conversation with myself. In a nutshell: attaining middle age (for me) doesn't mean I've stopped growing. I figure I have several choices. I can bury myself in my work, become crazed, or take risks and thrive. Guess which I choose.



©Michelle Scofield, February 25, 2012 All Rights Reserved

Lovelies

I've been scarce. Sorry faithful readers. I've been writing and planning elsewhere. That's what happens when I get an idea in my head. I devote hours and hours of time to it.

Anyway.

Although I love you, I wouldn't buy you roses for Valentine's Day.

I'd take you to a park and we'd sit among the lovelies. And picnic.

Happy Today and Tomorrow to all of you! And the next day, and so on. M