Gulp... It's that time of the decade.
Extra Mustard
Some people struggle with milestone birthdays - 30, 40, 50. For me it’s always been the year before the milestone and that year begins today. Yes, I turn 49.
Maybe it’s because this is the “last chance” to be in this decade of definition - your 20s, 30s and so on. When you’re in the midst of them, there is a level of generational expectation, whether it’s relationships, career or family. And when I realize that I’m one year away from stepping from one band to another, it is jarring, simultaneously a period of mourning and expectation.
I first experienced this personal phenomenon when I turned 29. I was married fairly young (24) to my college sweetheart. We had just had our first child a couple of months earlier and now I was 29 with a baby. I found myself looking back at my 20s and wondering where the time went. One moment, I was in college. Then, I was beginning my career as a sportswriter. Then, I was married. Then I shifted careers. We moved into a house. Now, we had a kid. How did this all happen? I felt like I was 24, not 29. I was happy with my life, and I realized for the first time that time moves forward and never looks back.
My 30s were a blur. With children, there were so many new experiences that were defining who I was, am, and wanted to be. I had a family now. The foundation for the expected life was laid. Now I had to build the rest. Looking back, I spent too much time trying to live up to expectation of what that life should be. I labored on work activities I thought would help in my career but proved inconsequential in hindsight. I realize now I spun my wheels trying to be what I thought others wanted, instead of embracing what gave me energy.
In my 30s and 40s, like many, I have been defined by my children and family. My friends were parents of my children’s friends or teammates. My free time was defined by their activities and the memory books are filled with family trips, shared moments at home or watching them experience new things. These are glorious memories that I cherish and look band with fondness. Yet, those moments only live in hazy memories and two-dimensional photos and you can never return to it “as it happens” again.
As I end my 40s, it’s an odd feeling. It is my favorite decade so far. I have embraced who I am as a person, a man, a husband, father and friend. I have enjoyed the fruits of raising two great kids with my wife and as they begin their own journey into adulthood. I feel comfortable in my own skin and who I am in relation to others. I have a better self-awareness in my relationships, my career and my dreams. Authenticity and intentionality have become a mantra.
In the next year, I’m poised to release my baseball novel Lose Yourself, which is much about the moment as it is expectation. I’ve also been working on the next book, tentatively entitled Landslide, about a man entering his 50th year when his world falls apart because of his hubris, entitlement, and cynicism. Through gratitude, he finds redemption. The writing has been a challenge, trying to toe the nuanced line of an unlikable protagonist. But I want to explore the idea of a person facing the consequences of his own narcissism. While ego is a constant companion throughout our lives, I think this is the time when we see ego in the mirror, confront it, and decide where it fits in our future.
As I stare down my 50s, I wonder what may be in store. Certainly, there will be transition from the role of my children’s caregiver to one of a coach and consultant. My marriage will also experience transition from co-parents to an empty nest. This seems very exciting with endless possibilities, but it’s also tinged with concern over aging parents and our own unknown health issues. And, of course, there’s the specter of disruptions due to possible world events or personal tragedy.
Life coaches would hate this contemplation and they’re probably right. It’s foolish to look too deep toward the past or the future. Be your best in the moment. Don’t lament the past. It’s over and done. Don’t wring your hands over the future. It has yet to happen. Embrace today.