reflections on the last day of my fifth decade

George Carlin said that everyone is interesting at 50, either because they've made a success of themselves and they've learned a few things, or because they've screwed everything up. When I look back over my forties I see a shapeless mass; I got lost somewhere along the way.

To help shape my fifties I've set a couple ten-year goals beyond the simple goal of just hanging in there; the older I get the more I realize how little control I have over that, and I am grateful for each new day, despite how badly I squander most of them.

My first goal is to walk around the world with my dogs. And I mean that figuratively: the earth's circumference is 24,901 miles, so once around in a decade works out to just under seven miles a day. Totally do-able if I spend less time in the aether, which is, I think, a good goal too.*

The second goal is to get all the way through the Great Books of the Western World ten-year reading plan. I've read a lot of the list, but not methodically. I get hung up on the math. (A related goal, and part of the motivation for this one, is to learn how to think. My brain never shuts up, but most of my self-talk gets stuck in depressing, badgering ruts. I'd like to learn how to think all the way through a thought once in a while.) That's not the only reading I'll do, but there are gems in those pages ("Sing, Goddess...").

The third goal is less decade-specific, and more a lifelong thing. I'd like to be more deserving of my blessings: my magnificent children, my terrific parents and siblings, a woman with whom I daily fall ever more deeply in love, and our wonderful animal friends. Thank you all for bearing with me.

*Tangential rant: There is no "cloud." It's just magnets. Lots and lots of magnets.