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real slap in the face concerning your mortality. By this phase of our lives, most of us have dealt with the death of a parent, a friend or family member dealing with cancer, and even old athletic wounds reasserting themselves after decades of silence. So 50 brings a set of self-reflections that may be embraced or ignored. For one, the idea and tradition of celebrating birthdays loses its appeal. When I was little, I had the most fabulous birthdays at the Portland zoo with carloads of friends tucked in tight polyester pants with chocolate smiles tugging at colorful balloons. The parties involved games, boat rides, and mountainous sugar cakes that imbued me with a healthy sense of exploration and adventure. I wanted to be a paleontologist and illustrated two books for our home library by the first grade. Later, I would go off to work at a horse camp in the Arizona desert, paddle my way to canoe camp in the UP of Michigan, and spend four years as a field archaeologist with projects in Italy, Oregon, and Arizona. I floated through the years, and the candles on my cakes became more torch-like as life whittled down my friend list to a precious few. So how could I make my 50 new? How could I use 50 to reinvigorate my belief that life was an exploration?
CLIFFS
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I use 50 to reinvigorate my belief that life was an exploration?
If you are not 50, and do not know someone who is, we are the people who went to college with a typewriter and left with a computer. We were raised at the tail end of traditional American values and had a work ethic imposed on us by summer jobs starting sometimes as early as the fifth grade. We still say thank you to waitresses delivering food and feel compelled to throw away our trash in public places. We’ve had our mid-life crises and accept who we are, but still aren’t beyond playing the lottery or having a smoke now and again. We don’t enjoy other people’s “fails” and don’t understand why young men with plenty of hair shave their head bald for an image. Things have been changing so rapidly with technology that we are not exactly sure where we belong. And yes, we have all reached that age where we have said, “What’s with kids today?” even though we promised ourselves we wouldn’t.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but when my father died at the age of 50 as I studied away at college, it underscored the fleeting nature of life. There were so many things I had left undone, and even unsaid. Suddenly, I was robbed of the chance to know my dad from the perspective of a full grown adult. My brother, being five years older had shot pool with him at the local Elks lodge and even chortled over a few dirty jokes while downing a beer. Dad and I had our traditions, getting the Christmas tree and camping among them, but I never got to share my love of nature with him or he the stories of his life as a teen and rowdy college football player. Who was close to me that I could tell my tales of travel and relationships? Were stories all I had left, or were there still chapters to be written?
So, when my best friend told me about his brother in law discussing “a year of 50” a few months before my birthday, I told him to stop right there. I knew a good idea when I heard one, and decided I wanted to create my own year of 50 using my own creativity and life perspective. I figured 50 could be a good excuse to reinvigorate what I liked about life and try to reconnect with my passions. I could continue to just watch my cake frosting carmelize, or see where I stood, and see what made life worth living NOW. What dreams remained? I would take up 50, chew on it, spread it with a rolling pin, and toss it around the room and cut it into shaped to be baked into future possibilities. 50 would be another stop to challenge my train of consciousness. Who knows, maybe I could give myself a life boost with what remained of my life energies. So I sat down with a fresh notebook and wrote what I wanted my year of 50 to be and where I was going. The list will not be etched in stone, but will be allowed to contort and change as lists can be more about completing tasks than the experience. Think about the last majore event you attended and how many people spent the entire time holding up a camera rather than being part of it. This is my attempt to stomp out that version of life and embrace a new starting line. To begin:
Riding the wild jackalope in South Dakota. Seeking out the unusual is a passion at 50. Embrace it.