I turned 40 this week. When I turned 30 I was glad to have my 20s behind me. My 20s were certainly fun, but they were also filled with a lot of silliness and bullshit. I remember thinking when I turned 30 that I finally had things figured out and now fully understood life. I was ready to implement what I had learned and start living the good life in accordance with all that I had learned to that point.
Like most revelations of this kind I quickly realized my hubris. I indeed still knew very little and life was quick to prove that. Over the past decade I’ve done some of the most important things that I’ll ever do. Most notably being that shortly after turning 30 I reconnected with an old friend that soon became my wife and after a few adventures with just the two of us we had two amazing boys. None of these things were on my radar when I turned 30, but the life I’m currently living far exceeds any expectations I had for my future on that 30th birthday.
I guess I’m now officially middle-aged. For those that are younger than me – this all comes quite quickly. For those that are older than me – you already know this. In many ways I still see myself as a child. Just a scared and weak little dude trying to navigate this world of adulthood without being found out that underneath the graying beard is just a scrawny and frightened kid.
The 40th birthday is a big deal in our current era because we are very aware of life expectancy. For a US male life expectancy is just below 80 years, and in other Western nations it is just above 80 years. So while those are just averages it is hard to escape the reality that at 40 your life is likely half over. How could this be when I still so often see myself as that child? In many ways I still see my life as just beginning.
Since I was proven so wrong about how much I had ‘figured out’ when I turned 30 I am cautious to make any such declarations at 40. I know very little, but the last ten years have taught me that that is fine. One needn’t know too much. I know what I need to know to get by. I know enough to stay alive, play my part in providing for my family, and limit the self-inflicted suffering that plagued my younger self.
Acceptance that there is very little that I have figured out has allowed me to recognize the aspects of my life that I do have a pretty good beat on. I’ve been able to tap into the wonder of that child that I still too often perceive myself to be. Where my arrogance once filled that boy with dread at the world he thought he had figured out I can now see possibility in a world that I don’t, and will never, understand. What’s the point of understanding it anyway? As the debates roll on as to the best way to structure society, allocate resources, or zero-in on what it means to live the ‘good life’ we only seem to be left with more questions than answers. And how much control do I have over such things anyway? So why allow any of it to siphon my energy?
A few years ago I made a goal for myself. I said that I wanted to be where I was going to be for the rest of my life when I turned 40. This goal had some roots in the transient tendencies of my adult life to this point. I was quick to follow opportunity and adventure. I always had one foot out the door. No matter where I was it seemed I always had a nagging suspicion that something was happening somewhere else that I was missing out on.
Marriage certainly calmed that a bit, and having kids went a step further in making the logistics of such moves nearly impossible. Both of those I consider to be good things. I felt pretty certain that calming, or eliminating, that urge to move on to something new was a key component in finding lasting happiness. I realized that by constantly looking beyond my front door I was missing a lot of what was going on inside my own house.
When making that deal with myself I always imagined it in physical terms. Like I want to be in the state, city, or house where I will spend the remainder of my life by 40. As the actual 40th birthday approached I found that something else was happening. I was realizing a peace that I had never felt before. Or at least a sense of ease and contentment that I don’t remember feeling in the past. This feeling seemed to have little to do with physical locale.
What I’ve come to understand is that I have reached a comfort with who I am, my place in the world, and my potential for the remainder of my life. The ‘place’ I actually wanted to be by 40 was not some dream house or hip city, but a mental space that was safe, quiet, and comfortable. This revelation crept in slow over the past 18 months or so. I have fully realized how fortunate I’ve been to this point in my life. So fortunate that when I took the inevitable inventory of life that one takes as these milestone birthdays approach I was able to see that everything that makes a life ‘good’ was already surrounding me.
My father-in-law said to me last weekend that ‘life starts at 40’. I’d have to agree with him. I don’t know what I thought I knew at 30. I will never know what I thought was possible to know when I was 30. I’m fine with that now. For me 40 has come with an appreciation for how fortunate I was for my first 40 years. Fortunate for the people, events, and experiences that have culminated in who I am today – the good and the bad. It has also come with a realistic understanding of what is possible in the next 40 should I be lucky enough to get the full 40.
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Billy's Briefs 