Fifty

I haven’t been writing much - not here, online. I’ve been taking information in - processing it, learning, integrating. I bought this journal…

My fiftieth year was a ride. It was much like the time back in 2016 when Andrea and I went to the Blue Hill Fair in Maine. I had bought tickets for the rides and got on the Tilt-a-Whirl, where I got my gondola spinning faster and faster. There was nothing to do but surrender to the ride and its dizzying pace. At last, the ride slowed, then stopped, and when I finally exited, I staggered about feeling sick and dazed. We ended up giving our tickets away to a family. It wasn’t that the ride wasn’t fun – it was, but at times, it was a little too much – too intense. The only way out was through – to hold on, endure the ride, and know that it would eventually slow and end. That was 50.

The loss of two of my male mentors left me feeling unmoored and adrift – first Bob, expected and still searing pain, followed by John, three short months later, an unexpected gut punch. Even now, six months after his passing, I yearn to call him – to share what’s happening at work and to ask, “What do you think, John?” Instead, I sit with the what, the unknowing, the uncertainty, and move forward – forever grateful to John for believing in me, holding space for me, and always having sage advice at the ready.

I used to float, now I just fall down

I used to know, but I'm not sure now

What I was made for

What was I made for?

In August 2024, I was driving back from spending time with Bob for the last time, and that song came on. I remember thinking, 'What were any of us made for?' Surely, we weren’t made to work and then die.

Each year, I choose a word and commemorate that word on a My Intent bracelet. This year’s word was strong. The morning of my 51st birthday, I thought, I wonder what my new word should be? I then sat down and pulled the Strength card from my tarot deck. I hear you, universe. There were so many lessons and meanings held in that one word.

I learned a lot this year - and not just about strength. Or maybe I realized that there are so many different ways to be strong. Recently, I bought a print from an artist that says: “I am the softest and most ruthless I have ever been.”

1. How powerful Breathwork can be and how to share it with others.

2. Microdosing psilocybin will not lead to you “tripping balls” - a quote from one of my guides, Catherine Andrews.

3. Listening to books counts in your tally of books “read” in a year and I don’t care if people disagree.

4. I am glad I took the job I have now - sure, the HR department was a dumpster fire with its lack of foundation, etc. but if I can turn that around, I can do anything in HR.

5. I am terrible at growing herbs. But it’s okay - other people are really good at this so I don’t have to be.

6. Once again, I learned that anticipatory grief will in no way help you sidestep grieving when the anticipated loss arrives. A recent email from the NT Times backed me on this: “Some anticipatory grievers imagine that by the time their loss takes place, “they will have ‘used up’ all their grief, or that it will be easier when the loss happens,” Dr. Wolfelt said.  That’s a misconception,” he added. “It’s still hard. You’re not all done.” Well, shit.

7. So much about nervous system regulation - so I could regulate my nervous system and help people learn to regulate theirs.

8. When your (former) CEO (or whomever - in my case it was my former CEO) invites you to visit, book the damn trip. Two months after the visit, John passed away suddenly and I’m forever grateful I had that time with him.

9. You can learn a lot by stepping outside your comfort zone. Andrea encouraged me to take the trip to Reno with my Breathwork group. I was hesitant to do this for several reasons - for example, the thought of processing big emotions in front of strangers didn’t seem like a good time. And offering or receiving supportive touch? Eh. But I leaned in and it was, and continues to be, a powerful, transformative experience.

10. You can try to help people - but there will be people who do not accept your help even when it’s coming from a good & supportive place. Maybe they don’t think they need it? Who knows. It’s not yours to figure out. Let it go, move on.

I leave you with this picture of me on that tilt-a-whirl.