50 is the new 30

I sit here contemplating my 50 tripsĀ around the sun, enjoying the time to myself, thinking about Melia, my family, friends and colleagues, Pacha, and my personal evolution. I smile, recalling that three months ago, I could not imagine feeling this way at 50 years old. In fact, my plan was to more or less ignore my birthday and pretend it never happened.

A ritual healing experience at the beginning of Spring with an amazing medicine woman changed me. Through the experience I came to understand that denial is not compassion. That is what I have been here to learn in the first half of my life, and that is that I here to teach in the second half.

At first I hard a hard time understanding this. I wasn’t in denial. In fact, I was one of the least in denial people that I knew, or so I thought. But like a many petaled flower blossoming, my denials unfolded with the weather and the flowers.

When I was in Melbourne, visiting my Dad and my step mother with Melia on the evening my biological father transitioned (unbeknownst to me), I realized that I was not in integrity with my stated mantra – Living the Story I wanted to Tell – about my 50 years.

Up util that point, I had wanted to hide the fact that I was turning 50. In fact over the year i had vacillate as to whether to use my true age on my OKCupid profile. Part of this was knowing that several women I had dated (including two that I really liked) pulled back when I told them my age.

There are feelings of rejection associated with my age, so I wanted to just let my 50th pass me by. But as I lie there on the bed, I realized that is not the story I want to tell about my 50th birthday. Two months from now I want to say that I embraced the moment and cherished it, and spent it with people I loved both in physicality and in spirit.

That is what I have been here to learn in the first half of my life, and that is that I here to teach in the second half. That these first fifty spins have been training and that now I am to do the work I came her to, to teach that denial is not compassion through Pacha, through my stories, through my actions.