If all goes according to plan, on Monday I will turn 41 . THANK GOD. A year in and I've found the continent of my 40's to be the most hospitable yet. The coffee is strong. The water is warm. The skin fits. And if it doesn't, I don't have to wear it, drink it, sell it, believe it, kiss it, marry it, leave it, stay with it, buy into it, go along with it, say it or do it. Because F- that. I'm turning 41.
As I learn to practice self care as devotedly as I once practiced self-destruction, the natives don't attack nearly as much as they used to. I'm signing a peace treaty with the warring factions, surrendering my weapons, calling for a potluck instead of a showdown.
It's not that WA-LA! I have become rich, skinny, famous or moved into a mansion with a maid. It's not that I've achieved all my dreams or figured how to do yoga everyday or even how to get my foot near my head. It's not that the world isn't mad and people I love aren't suffering. It's that I'm learning to put as much time and energy into loving the things about myself I'd wasted so much time and energy trying to change. My thigh? My underarm? My house? My husband? My mothering? My process of writing, being, thinking, talking, loving, praying, eating, living? Bless it all for the incredible, precious weird-ass beauty that it is.
So far, the radical actions of my 40's have included dancing like a mad woman, wearing spaghetti strap dresses that don't hide the sturm and drang of my jiggling arm flesh, inviting people over before adding extra chairs or extra rooms to our house. I've committed to publishing the work of myself and others before its ground to the bone or polished like silver. I'm working on accepting responsibility for what's mine and not for what isn't. There's a ton of work left to do, but I'm ready to celebrate what's been done so far.
All my life, but especially on my birthday, I've wanted Jesus to come down on a unicorn and sweep me off my feet-- you know, to sort of prove that I'm worth it. This year I'm having a few women over in the backyard to burn some shit in a fire pit. We are going to say Bless it or F-it to the warring factions and struggles and wonders and glories of our lives. And that is a big step in the right direction in this big world for me.