Blogging: Birthday Week
Bicycling my way into the Fifties
©Mark H. Pillsbury
Leaving the past decade feels momentous. Was it a
mountain-top experience; or in reality, a “mole-hill?” It depends on the
perspective—the viewpoint. I’ve never carried the heft of “age” so physically,
the wear and mileage shows at every doctors visit. Skin, teeth, eyes, muscles,
feet… Could they all decline at once, right around this milestone birthday? I’m
serious. This isn’t the obligatory midlife melodrama blog post. I won’t berate generic marketing campaigns aimed at
driving me to false comparisons. You know the ones.
Still, I’m wondering whether this decade taught me more than
the others. Happy where I am, better in so many phases of life, it is the
surviving that gives my reflection meaning. As I’ve often written here on the New
Rostra blog about resiliency, recovery, recalibration as a result of our brokenness;
this post is also a good point at which to bisect my story. My birthday month
isn’t a midlife crisis; but instead, a vista from which to look both forward
and past.
Last Saturday night I viewed a couplet star, grouped too far
away to see with the naked eye. My lifespan’s brevity compared to the time it
took for the light to reach that telescope, warped my sense of time; forcing me
to admit my few decades don’t amount to more than a blip on a nanometer. And
what am I to make of my accomplishments? How do I set goals this late in life,
with reality setting in? It’s a mental tug-of-war between what-might-be and
what-might-have-been; a battle against cynicism that thinks, “I’ve seen it all
by now.” As I think about this age, I’m aware that the knowledge that makes me
cherish innocence, makes innocence unattainable; nonetheless, I’m reminded by
Solzhenitsyn that I must still “cherish innocence,” not losing the wonder of
discovery, even by riding a bike around the neighborhood. (Psalm 51:12)
Stepping off the busy-bus for a few moments to reflect on
this midpoint; I’m happier in being, more than doing, in thinking more than
talking, in giving rather than taking, resting instead of rushing. I’m even comfortable
with renouncing the vanished naivety
and utter futility of the “Illusion of Control.” For the past 18 years, my family and my church has helped me the most to grow and expand my definitions of love, joy, peace, centeredness, humor, inter-dependence, humility, and purpose.
In this beautiful October, always one of the best months of
the year; my mind focuses on this life, my loves, dreams, and the purpose for
being. By sweet grace, the tempests have stalled for the briefest of moments;
the Ferris-wheel of life slowly turning to the top of the circle, giving me
time to breathe. Smiling at what came before, future storms at bay; I wonder
over what flows out of my heart: thinking, learning, reading, working, loving, laughing,
teaching, cooking, walking, bicycling… even singing!
Songs are like photographs from my childhood: listening to
the AM Radio during the summer, teenage driving with the sound turned up, or
the long commute between Austin and Dallas. From the Bangles to Rush, Soul
Train, Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert, Starplex Amphitheatre, the ACL Guadalupe studio
recordings attended; these are just some of the ways song burned into my
psyche. I’ve gone from 8-tracks to Pandora® hearing songs like “Walking on a
Thin Line,” Huey Lewis & the News, the one-shot album of Bad English,
sneaking out to a Tom Petty concert, Shalomar’s “Dancing in the Sheets,” and
maybe a slow dance to Lionel Ritchie’s “My Love?” Strangely, somewhere in the
night (or the 1980s); I became a big fan of Frank Sinatra (thanks Mary!). As an example: “It was a very
good year” lyrics are shown below (1965).
The bell’s about to ring. I have to cram 50 years of
memories back into my memory locker and run to class. I appreciate you taking
the time to listen to me during this break. Humbly working in life’s Second Act
not to waste the wisdom gained from the first; I’m not going to risk my time
and energy on some of the activities and things I did before. I want to live my
life true to my conscience, my family, and the calling of God’s word (sharp as
a surgeon’s scalpel); not what I think others expect of me. I’m planning on
being more appreciative of the small things in life that can’t be bought. Can I
rest more than work, listen more than speak, love more, worry less; will I feel
dumber the smarter I get? Maybe it’s true that 50 is the new 30.
(October 2014)
“When you hit your fifties life starts comin’ up on ya
fast,” Gordo Tallman said to me on the occasion of my forty-ninth birthday.
“Before that time life is pretty much a straight climb. Wife looks up to you
and the young kids are small enough, and the older kids smart enough, not to
weigh you down. But then, just when you start puttin’ on the pounds an’ losin’
your wind, the kids are expectin’ you to fulfill your promises and the wife all
of a sudden sees every single one of your flaws. Your parents, if you still got
any, are gettin’ old and turnin’ back into kids themselves. For the first time
you realize that the sky does have a limit. You comin’ to a rise, but when you
hit the top there’s another life up ahead of you and here you are—just about
spent.” (By Walter Mosley ©2010, Penguin Group Publishing, New York)
"I think of my life as vintage wine from fine old kegs;
From the brim to the
dregs, and it poured sweet and clear.
It was a very good
year.” –Frank Sinatra (1965)
"Sixty feels exactly like 50, with aching feet and more forgetfulness. (AAA had to come unlock my car this morning, as God is my witness). But your inside person doesn't age. Your inside person is soul, is heart, in the eternal now, the ageless, the old, the young; all the ages you've ever been." --Anne Lamott (2014)
Psalter's prayer: "Clean my heart God,
Cast me not away from your presence
Restore to me, the joy of my salvation."
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