A little bit lighter, a little more sad

Turning Fifty ? !

A few weeks ago I shared with a friend that I was feeling somehow different that day than from any previous one so far: "I feel...a little bit lighter, a little more sad." "Could it be," he asked, smiling, "that you're growing up?" "Oh no, not that!" I replied. "Anything but that!"

What makes you feel good about growing older? Answer the first thing that comes to mind. I asked this question to several guests at my birthday party, before the dancing and champagne drinking got really underway. "Being in your power," "Being in your prime," "Not caring what others think of you (as much)," "Being comfortable in your own skin," "Not having to go through again what I went through to get to this point..."

And my pal Lane, the original hot bunny winemaker, weighed in via email a few days later with, "We are sparkly wonderful balls of energy at the core and I am trying to see if I can get back to the state of clean and blissful." As the Body gets older, the Spirit becomes magically younger. This contributes to living Life a little lighter, a little sadder, and hopefully with more of that Holy Grail of Maturity: Presence.

As my latest mentor Eckhart Tolle says, "Awareness is the power that is concealed within the present moment...Only Presence can undo the past in you and transform your state of consciousness."

I survived a California "Mad Men" kind of childhood, a time in a world now gone forever. But since it is my own time I remember it fondly, with a kind of wonder. I had a sunbonnet, girls always wore dresses to school, my parents listened to Dave Brubeck and went to topless bars, you get the picture. My Grandmother worked for NASA, and when men landed on the moon in July 1969 we all cheered and cried in front of the television.

These past few days, as the smoke clears after my 50th "intimate bash" here on Partington, I feel again this lightness and sadness. Full and happy with so many memories, including the unforgettable start to the party: My husband in his pork-pie hat and Hawaiian shirt, blowing away a rattlesnake (that he was unable to trap) with my Dad's 38 revolver, itself a piece of history.

I feel I've reached a summit. I know that my life is immeasurably rich and full of love. Perhaps now I am descending from that peak, letting go, bit by bit, and feeling lighter and freer in this new process. Somehow, this feels right and good. Not that there will not be great dramas and adventures to come, but may they come (fingers crossed for luck) with more and more wisdom and gentleness.

May all of us spin lightly and joyfully into the next moments of Life!