This can't be today
My day. My 40th birthday. The one time I will agree to acknowledge the importance--the significance--of this day in particular. I am taking the day off from work as my treat to myself for reaching this plateau. Liz has left for work and I sit with my first cup of coffee, the sun beginning to rise (which it NEVER does on my birthday in general) and blog time. A most excellent start.
A day to actually take the time to genuinely reflect on my own life to this point. Many things I'm proud of; many I'm not and wish could be erased from my lifebook, but instead look at with perspective rather than regret (none of that wanting to rewrite history for me; it's one of those pseudo-analyses that makes me cringe). Knowing and accepting that my life is half over, not in a morbid or negative way. That I am smarter, wiser, more open minded and sedate; that I'm not willing to compromise my health or happiness any longer and that the most important thing in my life is Liz. No grand testimonials or sanctimonious bullshit. My wife is the only person that completely matters. I have a wonderful family, normal in that they are as emotionally waylaid as anyone else's family, but I love them nonetheless; my closest/most trusted friend is valued beyond words and the brother I wish I had and therefore gives me pause to celebrate a very fortunate life. My cats bring me unconditional love, joy and laughter and while Liz and I don't have money, our apartment is a home; it is warm and comfortable, filled with the best elements of the two of us, thus making it truly ours.
"40" says a lot. At moments, playing in a rock group makes me feel like I may be in a state of arrested adolescence or at best, re-visiting a past that I waved goodbye to a decade ago. I know that many of the musicians/bands I admired came back well into their 40's and have put out some of the finest music of their careers and that you can do this in a respectable fashion. Nonetheless, I want to see this Punch Line album through to completion and I'll make my final decision whether or not to continue. As I've said so often, I believe in growing older with dignity--and to many degrees, being back in the band--a band I started at 18 (by virtue of consistency)--is fairly undignified, but if the music is good and (at the end of the day) what I envision it/want it to be as it comes from my pen, then I'll take it one step at a time with no delusions of anything more nor less than quality of recordings and performances (sporadic as those will be) by my standards. If it doesn't measure up or it becomes remotely close to what it was twice before, then I'll walk away with no regrets, no recriminations and no return. The beauty of age? Knowing--the certainty that you no longer need something you once loved/lived for in your youth. The beauty of age? Knowing that you control everything in your life. Knowing how to say "no" and being comfortable without false compromise. The beauty of age? Being able to be diplomatic and subtle when necessary. The beauty of age? Allowing yourself the grace of growing smarter if you so choose. There are a lot of people at this age who are just so fucking willfully ignorant, it leaves me stunned and contempt-filled. Does that make me sound arrogant/pompous/self-righteous? Sure, but so what? No one holds a gun to your head and says "be a fool; play the clown for the rest of your life". I don't owe anyone an apology; I don't owe anyone anything. The beauty of age? Not having to say you're sorry or put on false politeness. The beauty of age? Strength.
40 can be an amazing number; it's sad how many people look at it with dread. I'm embracing this turning point and reveling in it. Seeing my here-and-now, using the past as a guide to non-repetition and taking the future in small doses. Life is about additions and amputations. I've had many periods of loss and reconnection. Sometimes the circle comes back together and I couldn't be happier (case and point, my relationship with Valerie); sometimes it was better left in yesterday; sometimes you shouldn't go home again, but this is part of learning. As I grow older, I learn more. 40 = a happy marriage, a loving family, good friends, a decent job and seeing my songs come to life. When you put it in those terms, it is a happy birthday.
Valerie called last night because she wanted to be the first to wish me a Happy Birthday; Liz and I will have a nice dinner tonight and I have this day all to myself. No finer a birthday I've had.
My day.
A day to actually take the time to genuinely reflect on my own life to this point. Many things I'm proud of; many I'm not and wish could be erased from my lifebook, but instead look at with perspective rather than regret (none of that wanting to rewrite history for me; it's one of those pseudo-analyses that makes me cringe). Knowing and accepting that my life is half over, not in a morbid or negative way. That I am smarter, wiser, more open minded and sedate; that I'm not willing to compromise my health or happiness any longer and that the most important thing in my life is Liz. No grand testimonials or sanctimonious bullshit. My wife is the only person that completely matters. I have a wonderful family, normal in that they are as emotionally waylaid as anyone else's family, but I love them nonetheless; my closest/most trusted friend is valued beyond words and the brother I wish I had and therefore gives me pause to celebrate a very fortunate life. My cats bring me unconditional love, joy and laughter and while Liz and I don't have money, our apartment is a home; it is warm and comfortable, filled with the best elements of the two of us, thus making it truly ours.
"40" says a lot. At moments, playing in a rock group makes me feel like I may be in a state of arrested adolescence or at best, re-visiting a past that I waved goodbye to a decade ago. I know that many of the musicians/bands I admired came back well into their 40's and have put out some of the finest music of their careers and that you can do this in a respectable fashion. Nonetheless, I want to see this Punch Line album through to completion and I'll make my final decision whether or not to continue. As I've said so often, I believe in growing older with dignity--and to many degrees, being back in the band--a band I started at 18 (by virtue of consistency)--is fairly undignified, but if the music is good and (at the end of the day) what I envision it/want it to be as it comes from my pen, then I'll take it one step at a time with no delusions of anything more nor less than quality of recordings and performances (sporadic as those will be) by my standards. If it doesn't measure up or it becomes remotely close to what it was twice before, then I'll walk away with no regrets, no recriminations and no return. The beauty of age? Knowing--the certainty that you no longer need something you once loved/lived for in your youth. The beauty of age? Knowing that you control everything in your life. Knowing how to say "no" and being comfortable without false compromise. The beauty of age? Being able to be diplomatic and subtle when necessary. The beauty of age? Allowing yourself the grace of growing smarter if you so choose. There are a lot of people at this age who are just so fucking willfully ignorant, it leaves me stunned and contempt-filled. Does that make me sound arrogant/pompous/self-righteous? Sure, but so what? No one holds a gun to your head and says "be a fool; play the clown for the rest of your life". I don't owe anyone an apology; I don't owe anyone anything. The beauty of age? Not having to say you're sorry or put on false politeness. The beauty of age? Strength.
40 can be an amazing number; it's sad how many people look at it with dread. I'm embracing this turning point and reveling in it. Seeing my here-and-now, using the past as a guide to non-repetition and taking the future in small doses. Life is about additions and amputations. I've had many periods of loss and reconnection. Sometimes the circle comes back together and I couldn't be happier (case and point, my relationship with Valerie); sometimes it was better left in yesterday; sometimes you shouldn't go home again, but this is part of learning. As I grow older, I learn more. 40 = a happy marriage, a loving family, good friends, a decent job and seeing my songs come to life. When you put it in those terms, it is a happy birthday.
Valerie called last night because she wanted to be the first to wish me a Happy Birthday; Liz and I will have a nice dinner tonight and I have this day all to myself. No finer a birthday I've had.
My day.
posted by R L Ross at
7:06 AM
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