I consider myself to be halfway to fifty. You might, erroneously, assume that I am 25, but no. Truth be known I am just 45 and not so good at math. I prefer to use my own special accounting method, wherein 45 is half way from 40 to 50. See?
I spent a weekend, recently, in the company of a lovely group of women, most of whom were just turning or had just recently turned 50. Considering that I am still a “long” way from 50, myself, I found it to be quite an enlightening experience. I learned a few things about 50.
50 is pretty sure about what it wants and its not afraid to tell you. 50 does not really seem to care what you think about it, but it’s happy to listen any way. 50 is proud of what it has accomplished but still has a really big to-do list. 50 is wise, in a quiet, unassuming way that still remains open to possibility. 50 is tired sometimes, but recognizes that its not as tired as it’s gonna be when it’s 60. 50 still looks really really good and is working pretty hard to stay that way. 50 can drink you under the table and still be the first one up in the morning to brew a pot of coffee. 50 appreciates the opportunity to do nothing, at least for a little while. 50’s day no longer revolves solely around other people. 50 does not feel guilty leaving family at home to spend the weekend with their friends. 50 can be a bit of a micromanager in the kitchen, but that’s okay because 50 cooks really really well, so it turns out to be worth it. 50 is generous and gracious and kind. When you ask 50 to bring a dish to the party they do, and they bring something good and they bring more than they need to.
Where 40 is still gripped by roles, rules and responsibility, 50 has broken through that ceiling, taken a good look around, poured a big cup of coffee, found a really comfy chair by the window, and has settled in to watch the sun come up.
Not that I was angsting, but I feel better about being halfway to 50 now.