Your one wild and precious life 🌅
Thoughts (and a bit of heartache) as I turn 39... 🎈
Descending from the plane, the hot air of the tarmac hits me with a wave of memories. 🛬
Immediately, I’m transported back to a previous trip, another wonderful getaway from the cold winter season in Canada. Each year, my husband and I plan two trips abroad with our kids, usually one to a sun destination, the other to a more obscure place on the planet. Our quasi-annual “vacations” all start the same way with that sudden blast of heat. It feels like a déjà vu, yet each year I’m holding a slightly bigger hand behind me as I descend the stairs to the hot asphalt below, palm trees dancing in the distance. There used to be only one child to look out for; now there are two. Memories come flooding, as does the realization that yet another year has passed, each trip acting like a highway sign telling me I’ve travelled that much further through space and time.
My kids are growing up. I’m growing up, too.
Here in the Dominican Republic, I’m just one sleep away from my 39th birthday. I have felt it approaching for a few weeks now as I grapple with the sensation of time slipping through my fingers, like sand.
I’m not afraid of turning 39, or 40. I’m not dreading it. In fact, I know I just get better with age. 💁♀️ I’m happy to be embodying a no-bullshit mindset that I couldn’t quite access before; it’s helping me to navigate decisions, figure out what I care about, and live in alignment with my values. My midlife unravelling started a few years ago.
No, it’s not dread, or succumbing to the messages society likes to tell us about middle age. I’m somewhat lamenting my ageing body, my slowing metabolism, my greying hair (which has less to do with “going grey” than just loving being a brunette!) and how much harder it is to stay fit and strong. But I am feeling something in my bones, in the marrow of my being. It’s the awareness that time is moving faster than ever — that I won’t have time for everything I want to do, see, contribute, and accomplish. It’s the realization of the time I’ve wasted in my life thus far placing value on the wrong things.
I think what I’m feeling is a kind of grief, of heartache.
I know that 39 and 40 are just numbers. But I also know the span of my life, even if I live to be 105, is still remarkably short in the grand scheme of things. A drop in the ocean. I watch my kids playing in the sand at the beach here and, in a flash, I can rewind back to my childhood, of family road trips down to Hilton Head Island or Florida where we’d play in the sand and surf for hours. It seems so long ago, and like yesterday. And then, fast-forward, here I am, three decades later, watching my own kids playing on a beach. Time has flown so fast I can feel myself reeling.
I want to freeze these moments with them, not only because they are special to me, but because they are special to them, too. I want to take them by their shoulders and tell them: When you’re my age, you’ll wish time moved more slowly and that you had more of it. But their young minds can’t absorb this timeline we’re all on. Not right now.
The grief, this aching inside of me, gives me the resolve to be yet more decisive about how I spend my time, what’s important to me, what brings me joy, and what I’ll do with this “one wild and precious life,” as Mary Oliver asks us to consider. This takes more action than thought, however. I can take time to reflect and make decisions for myself, but the real work calls me to act on those thoughts, to be bold, maybe audacious, to ruffle a few feathers, to do the uncomfortable, and make my wildest dreams a reality.
When my kids are my age, perhaps reliving childhood memories as I am here in the Dominican Republic at age 39, I hope to tell them about the choices I made that birthday — about the fleeting nature of life, the line I drew in the sand, and the changes that ensued from that point forward.
“Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?”
— Mary Oliver (excerpt from The Summer Day)
What’s caught my attention lately… ✨
Searching for Happy Valley: A Modern Quest for Shangri-La, by Jane Marshall. I was asked to write a blurb for this book, and having gotten to know Jane this past year, I felt compelled to do a really thorough job of it. It’s a travelogue/adventure/investigative story that calls us to humble ourselves and decolonize our narratives so that we may form better connections with each other and the Earth. Available soon!
The Secrets to Making & Keeping Friends on We Can Do Hard Things has been a timely listen for me as I take the time to consider how I’m spending my time, with whom, and the relationships I want to nurture in my life. It’s also a neat idea to consider that, as adults, we need to be intentional about how we go about making (and keeping) new friends. I highly recommend this episode.
You might have noticed I didn’t do a voice recording of this article, as I’ve done for the past year. It is one of the changes I’m making to free up more time in my life by making cuts to the little time-suckers that add up. I run Field Notes on a shoestring, which is my pleasure and privilege. But article recordings take me a considerable amount of time and never quite reach the quality I’m hoping for with my limited knowledge and recording software. If you require assistance from an accessibility standpoint, there are numerous “read-aloud” apps, such as Audify. Perhaps one day I’ll resume the recordings for you.
Check these out too… 🙌
Lights to Guide Me Home: A Journey Off the Beaten Track in Life, Love, Adventure and Parenting - my memoir
The Wonders That I Find - my children’s book
My Email Newsletter - updates about my books, projects, and 1:1 coaching
Find me: Facebook | Instagram | Twitter
I hope you had a lovely Birthday
I say this all the time...”Turns out my parents were right about time moving faster when you’re older.” Like Sarah, I’ve found my early foray into my 40s to be full and satisfying; like you speak of, I think a big part of that is a stripping back to what matters when there is a sense of “there won’t always be more time”. It’s such a balance of living in the brilliant enoughness of now and respecting that this life is finite.
And ps I’m excited to dive into the friendship podcast. Post-2020, I’ve noticed the shift in who is still in my life, who fell away, who do I want in my life (current, former, new).