Lyda here. Once again, it’s Wednesday. Hump Day.
Today is the Full Moon – at 3:45 p.m. EST if you are feeling precise. This month’s full moon is called the Harvest Moon. Did ya know that each full moon has its own special name? Now you do. Although it feels more like the Oh-Jebus-Help-Me-Make-It-Through-Hump-Day-Without-Running-Amok Moon. I guess that’s just too long to fit on the calendars…
And today is National Women’s Health and Fitness Day. So, we’ve got that goin’ for us.
One of my coworkers just turned 30. Glamour once ran an article about what every woman should have and do by 30.
In the spirit of the Full Moon and also women’s health (okay, my own mental health. Trying not to run amok, remember? but I digress…), I present:
LIFE ONLY GETS BETTER IN YOUR FORTIES (or, “STUFF I’M GLAD I STUCK AROUND FOR”)
In my forties:
1) I live less in the past and more in the present.
2) I laugh more often, and about more things.
3) I’m not afraid of crying hard. Now I know there is always an end to tears.
4) I say “I’m sorry” less, and “No, I don’t think so” more.
5) I know that at my core, I’m a writer, an artist, and a teacher. In my forties, I remembered that I have always been.
6) I know I’m not defined by my job, my clothes, my weight – or anyone else’s opinion of any of these.
7) I know that men come and men go. *snort* My standards for male companionship are different than they were in my thirties or twenties. And much higher. And about damn time!
8.) I’m seeing my son more as the man he is becoming and less as my little boy. I couldn’t be prouder of him. And I give myself credit for the things I’ve done right as a parent.
9) I’m beginning to get a glimpse of the crone I will someday become. And I like her!
and of course, in the place of honor:
10) In my forties, I’m so lucky and grateful to still have my amazing, funny, wise best friend who’s been with me through more than the two decades – and who taught me a lot of this stuff!
When we are 100, we’ll sit on the front porch in our rocking chairs and knit and laugh and laugh. We’ll scandalize our relatives with wild stories of our youth.
And the stories will all be true.
Of course, by 100, we’ll think of our forties as part of our youth.
So let the wild rumpus start!