When Life Begins

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The sun sets on my 30’s (No party, but I spent a rare quiet few days away here with my husband when I actually turned 40)

As a young girl, and in my early adult years, I used to hear the oft used catch phrase: “Life begins at 40.” bandied around a lot. Of course, I dismissed it. How could “life” begin when one was so old? Why wait that long to get to the starting blocks? How, at a time when most people are bogged down with the reality of kids, mortgage, dead-end jobs, and bills to pay, and when there was no time for a “life” could life be beginning? Surely this was just something that “old” people said to make themselves feel better about getting old.

 

If only I knew then what I know now.

 

In my 20s I was naive. I liked to go out, or at least hang with the cool crowd, and fit in. I beat myself up when I struggled to keep up. I was never into drinking, and though outwardly extroverted at the time, I don’t think in hindsight, I was actually as outgoing as I made out to be.

 

By my 30s “I” was “we”. I was (still am) married to the man I met in my mid 20s, we had a house (mortgage), relatively steady employment, and were hoping for (trying for) kids. We were happy. We were self-sufficient, and to a degree, self-centred.

 

We “finally” became parents in our mid 30s. Being responsible for one (and not too much later two) tiny humans changed a lot of things. Suddenly the whole focus of our existence, and the whole reason for our existence, was to nurture these little helpless “bundles of joy” (they were not always joyful, but that’s part of the parenting package I guess).

 

Once I had emerged, from the sleep deprivation, endless nappies, and generally being a slave to routine, that accompanies new motherhood, I had the luxury to explore who I really was, what things were important to me, what I could give to others, what I could learn from others, and what and who I wanted to become. This opportunity came around about the time my son started school, and the year before my daughter started kindergarten. I was working part-time, being a mom full-time, helping out at the school, making music, and fitting in a decent amount of exercise. I needed something more. I wanted to be my own person.

 

The year things changed, and the year I started to get to know myself better, was, ironically, the year I turned 40. I can’t put my finger on what it was exactly, but there were two things that facilitated the change more quickly.

 

One of them was starting Karate training. Whether it was just doing something completely different and new for me, or whether it was something that filled a gap I never knew was there, I don’t really know, but it seemed to give me a clarity of mind to figure things out for myself.

 

Around about the same time, and mostly for health reasons, I decided to try a Vegan lifestyle. That also for some reason improved my clarity of mind. Sure, it made me feel better physically; healthier, and stronger, but it also shifted some of the brain fog, and gave me so much energy to do things, which facilitated me getting fitter and stronger. I seemed to need less sleep (why didn’t I think of going vegan when I had babies?), less sugar, less stimulants, and feel more calm in myself. In time it also got me thinking about why people even eat animals. I could never go back now.

 

It was more than that though. Both Karate, and being vegan, started to open my mind in a general way, and made me a more flexible thinker, more willing to accept and listen to others, and decide what worked for me. It made me determined, and more importantly determined not to let others define me. It helped me learn and get past learning blocks, some of which had been there more than half my life. It made me more confident in myself. It even gave me the confidence to start this blog. It made me confident to be myself, and it put me on a quest to become the best me I could be. It led me to take an attitude of living life without regret. Β It gave me, in short, the impetus to stop being content to exist and to start living.

 

So now that my 40th year has well and truly passed and a few since then, I can say to all the non believing 20 and 30 – somethings out there, that it’s true what they say: Life actually DOES begin at 40. Life is what you make of it, so own it and make it count.

 

PS: Just for the record (and the benefit of Gen Y’s and younger ones): NO, I don’t feel old. I feel younger than I did at 30. It may be in part the kilos or the teenage angst I left behind in the last decade, but in reality, it’s probably mostly just an attitude shift. So be assured, although it may not be plain sailing, it certainly isn’t down hill from here!!)

 

PPS: Eventually I will get around to having a 40th birthday party…..but hey…..what’s the rush, right?

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