Reflections on Turning 50
This July, my life took an unexpected turn as two profound events converged to reshape my perspective. It all began on July 24th, the day I reached the milestone of turning 50, and I couldn't have picked a more picturesque place to celebrate this momentous occasion than Florence, Italy. Little did I know that just two days later, while basking in the tranquil ambiance of a rooftop pool in Rome, a bomb was about to drop.
Imagine this: a serene late afternoon, the sun gracefully descending, and then, in the midst of this idyllic setting, my phone rang, shattering the tranquility. On the other end, my sister's trembling voice delivered those dreaded words: "I've been diagnosed with cancer." It felt like an emotional avalanche.
While each of these events individually could trigger a period of deep introspection, forcing me to reevaluate my life's direction and reconsider my priorities, I had already begun this soul-searching journey before hitting the half-century mark. But now, life was speaking to me with unmistakable urgency, as if through a megaphone, compelling me to sit up and take notice.
The weeks leading up to my birthday were a battle royale between my 30-year-old self and the looming 50-year-old version I was becoming. An epiphany struck during a chat with a coaching buddy of mine – I was forcing my present self into the mold of my younger years. It's like I was stuck on a never-ending loop, a stubborn refusal to evolve. But guess what? I'm done with that juvenile nonsense. The accomplishments of my 30s and 40s, the laurels I'd earned, felt like a double-edged sword. Sure, I'd conquered mountains, became a Creative Director, pioneered daring projects, hobnobbed with street art legends, orchestrated events that left people buzzing, and even chaired West Hollywood’s design district’s board. But amidst the triumphs were exhaustion, stress, and enough illnesses to rival a soap opera. It's like my inner rebel was waking up with a hearty "Screw this! I deserve better."
The kicker is, I'm still hungry for success. I'm still itching to guide fellow creatives to find their inner trailblazers, those who dance to the rhythm of their instincts. And yes, I want that for myself too. I yearn to empower those who dream of making the world better, of weaving kindness and innovation into our lives and work. The conundrum? How in the world do I do this without burning myself out? How do I honor my current life stage, energy, and vision for a fulfilling existence? Because I firmly believe that there's a road less traveled, and it's paved with slowing down, not racing ahead. So here's what I've pieced together thus far.
Zeroing in on What Truly Counts
My sister's battle with cancer delivered a hefty dose of perspective. It exposed my tendency to act based on external validation, the craving for recognition and approval. But now, I'm flipping the script. I'm learning to treat myself with the same compassion I'd offer a friend in pain. The crux of it all? Love. Simple and profound, love is what genuinely matters. I know it might sound like a bumper sticker slogan, but it's rock-solid truth. Love in all its shades – for oneself, for life, for partners, for opportunities. It's about dialing down the forcing, the judging, and the nagging inadequacy.
At the dawn of this year, I scribbled a single resolution: trust myself above all else. It's like unearthing buried treasure – as you dig, more nuggets emerge. This philosophy revealed layers of self-doubt I hadn't imagined. Which leads me to my next revelation.
Listening to the Body's Whisper
Our brains are slick problem-solving machines, but they can also be slippery little devils. Think about how often we oscillate over decisions or rush into them only to end up in a spiral of doubt. I've been there, done that. My default mode is full-throttle, which isn't always ideal. So, it's time to make peace with my gut, my intuition. The body has wisdom the mind can't fathom. It's like learning a new language; connection and patience are key. Meditation has been an on and off companion for two decades, and one that I want to make a constant. Because, I've learned that ten minutes of it every day drastically transforms my decision-making.
Then there are mini-meditation breaks throughout the day. Two-minute interludes to reel myself in, breathe, and slow the chaos. Decisions big and small, now I'm giving them a bedtime. Even if it's just a sandwich choice, I want to soak in that moment of contemplation, feel what my body nudges me toward. You see, my decision-making style is written in my Human Design – I'm designed to feel my way to clarity over time. I'm meant to sleep on it, let ideas marinate. A drastic shift from my former speedster persona, which has not been incredibly easy to navigate. But I have an inner knowing that if I am able to do this, slow down, that the newfound peace will emerge.
Redefining Goal-Setting
As I peel back layers and find what truly resonates, my goals evolve. It's not just about stacking up dollars anymore, although financial success still has a spot on the list. But now, beneath that monetary goal are deeper desires: to keep learning, to stretch generosity, to shine brighter as the unique individual I am. These goals pulse with meaning, with the pulse of a fulfilling existence.
When I help my clients with goal-setting, I toss them a curveball: "If you had to pick one goal to focus on, knowing others would follow suit naturally, which would it be?" It's like gazing at the layers under the layers, a philosophical game of Jenga. And here I am, asking myself the same question. What's the goal underneath the goal that'll gently guide both to fruition?
Embracing the Unconscious Flow
Now here's where it gets whimsical – letting my unconscious do the heavy lifting. It's like fishing for ideas, but instead of battling the river's current, I'm kicking back and waiting for the right catch. You know that moment when an epiphany smacks you while walking your dog? That's your unconscious nudging your shoulder. And that's what I'm making room for.
Sure, it sounds bonkers, especially when schedules are jam-packed. But guess what? I'm tossing out the excuse book. I've started dedicating a chunk of my mornings – a solid 90 minutes – to creative play. Armed with a notebook and pencil, I head to the water, setting an intention but without a vice grip on it. I've learned to release it gently, starting with meditation. Sometimes ideas burst forth before my ten minute timer chirps, other days I wander, scribbling as thoughts flow. Occasionally, it's a contemplative day where the water and wind hold center stage. And yes, there are moments when nothing comes, leaving me itching to bolt. But I'm reminded that this practice doesn't just yield gold nuggets; it also brings grounding, calm, and efficiency to my day.
Embracing Contentment
Olga Mecking's book "Niksen: The Dutch Art of Doing Nothing" contrasts the happiness experienced by the Dutch with the American pursuit of excitement. Dutch contentment lies in simple moments, appreciating the late afternoon sun, sipping hot ginger tea, and observing passersby from a terrace. In contrast, American happiness often hinges on grand events.
Reflecting on this disparity, it's evident how our version of happiness is complex and outward-focused. Here's my happiness practice: cultivating contentment with myself, my appearance, and my possessions. These have been breeding grounds for perfectionism, yielding dissatisfaction. In contrast, envisioning easing into contentment soothes my body.
Two other intermittent practices that I’d like to make more consistent are the Five Minute Journal and making time for Niksen. The Five Minute Journal grants me space each morning to recognize three things I'm thankful for and, in the evening, to acknowledge wins, big or small. "Niksen" reminds me of the importance of taking time and space for walks at dusk, savoring the simple things, and practicing presence.
As I wholeheartedly embrace this journey towards transformation, I eagerly anticipate the emergence of additional shifts, each unfolding organically. I suspect a more profound connection to intuition will guide me, illuminating the path ahead with its inherent wisdom. Alongside this, I foresee a newfound confidence blossoming, allowing me to approach challenges with a resilient spirit. And, as I aim to release the grip of rigidity, I hope to discover the beauty of flexibility and adaptability in navigating life's intricate tapestry. These changes, interwoven with my commitment to love, self-discovery, and contentment, I hope will pave the way for a life lived more intentionally and authentically than ever before.