This is 40

In the past few months I have come to acknowledge the power of 40. Forty is not the naive youth of your 20s, nor the growth and experiences of your 30s, but the acceptance of your own being and recognition of your own power. Each decade before brought it's own growth, challenges and joy, and while I expect that the 40s will do the same there is a unique magic to 40. It comes with a dread and becomes an adventure.

At 40, a single, divorced mom of 4, I am more grounded than I was in the previous years. This does not come from age alone, but the internal growth I have undergone. Forty means stepping into my power, acknowledging who I am and accepting who I am. It is seeing me for me, loving her, even the parts I would change, and showing her to the world with the statement "I am me." For at 40 I can see me, the woman with the hips that carried 4 children; legs that have run marathons, chased children and hiked countless miles; a belly marked with stripes from carrying children; and hazel eyes that have seen joy, destruction, beauty, pain, love, and hope.

I have spent much of my life fighting myself, never quite fitting in, using that as my shield and torch. I am setting down those props and embracing my uniqueness with love. I will never be the one who spends weekends with lifelong childhood friends, driving through a neighborhood I have lived all my life. Instead, I am the one who has childhood friends across the states, friends with whom I can stay at a moment's notice, picking up right where we need to, despite a decade apart. Friends in Texas, Michigan, Florida, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, to name a few. I will always have a unique tribe, and it's something I enjoy, and at 40 am embracing with love. In fighting myself I faced every challenge alone, refusing to allow help. When the world said it was nearly impossible to complete a task, I would tell the world to sit down and watch me. It was set as a gauntlet, a challenge, not from a place of love. And you all did- you watched me fight through earning my PhD with 4 kids and husband; you watched me struggle with a license, housing and finances; you watched me battle the anxiety that was here pre-divorce and in earnest post-divorce. Now, at 40, I see my mistakes, when the task is nearly impossible I can complete it alone, but I can share the burden. I can chose to go forth in love or in fear.

At 40, I chose to go forth in love.

This is 40:

• seeing the woman in the mirror and loving her crinkles at her eyes, the light in her eyes, and all the little imperfections
• understanding that accepting help does not make you weaker, but stronger
• learning that love comes in all forms
• following passion and dreams, not only for yourself, but to model to your children
• finding the rhythms of parenting 4 unique individuals and accepting that you are never going to have all the answers
• accepting the situation at hand and then changing what you can
• taking risks, refusing to let fear and anxiety dictate
• choosing a life less ordinary and crafting it
• finding the courage in large and small situations to express my opinion, needs and desires regardless of the outcome

At 40, I go forth in love.

Dream Chasing

As some of you might be aware Leilah Grace is at it again.

This time she has partnered with Rue McKenrick, an amazing man designing, creating and hiking America's newest long trail, the American Perimeter Trail. As you all know I don't believe that people come into our lives randomly, but that each individual has a purpose. After a few conversations and a phone call I knew within me that I was being called to help this man. He has big dreams and is chasing a seemingly impossible goal, all the while doing it without consistent support. I have been lucky enough in my life to have the support I needed while I was out chasing my big crazy dreams and goals. This opportunity isn't about paying it back, but about doing what is right and supporting someone in their journey.

In the short time of this partnership I find myself glowing, happy and passionate about something; filled with a fire that hasn't been there in a while. I have a sense of belonging, a purpose. This project is forever bouncing around in my head, so much that I carry a notebook for when inspiration strikes. There is no dread, no fear, just excitement at the opportunities and promises it holds. While I help Rue I am finding my own fire and drive to chase my impossible sounding dreams again. Last year I made a connection that reminded me to dream and strive, but 2020 brings a fire and intensity that is unparalleled. 

Off we go into 2020 creating a life less ordinary.

Memories on Repeat

How many of you play the shoulda, coulda, woulda game with yourself? You know the game where you replay those moments over and over and over again with how you would have done things differently? I have to admit that this game has been playing in my my head the past 2 days. It's one that I do not enjoy and one that triggers my anxiety and increases my anxiety. It's a rabbit hole of worry, worthiness and anxiety that can turn into a spiral of anxiety leaving me restless, unsettled and irritable.

Despite the game occurring in my head over the past 2 days I have been able to keep the majority of anxiety at bay. I don't know whether to be thankful that it is only a handful of memories that keep resurfacing or annoyed that I'm watching the same show on repeat. These moments are ones that are not necessarily pivotal in my life, but ones where a different statement from me may have made the situation have a different outcome. This is why I believe they are on repeat in my head, it's my way of dealing with the outcome of the situation that I have not yet healed from. I am working on accepting the choice I made in the moment and accepting the person that I was in that moment. And that my friends is a tough thing.

We all struggle on some level with acceptance of our imperfect selves. I have yet to meet an individual who 100% accepts their flaws and imperfections. Even the people that I know are so grounded and centered have something to which they have difficulty accepting. From our outward appearances to our mental health we all struggle. Personally, I struggle with this anxiety. It's there, a battle that I feel like I am constantly fighting, while at other moments I know it's lurking, hiding, waiting for me. I know it's the one thing that I would change about myself: I would heal the anxiety. Despite the lessons I've learned and growth that has come from it, it can be exhausting. I heal it a little bit everyday, but it's likely one of those things that will never 100% disappear. If I'm honest that bothers me, and I have to take a moment each day to make peace with that. Then there are days like the last few where I just can't make peace with it, playing the game and memories on repeat.

It will get better though, I do believe that. Faith and hope carry me through.

Solo

Armed with the confidence from a single backpacking trip I decided to close out my summer as I had started it, a trip along the AT, just this time I would be solo. I studied maps, joined two all women facebook groups dedicated solely to hiking, and made my plans. I guessed on mileage, and planned for a 2 night trip. I bought supplies and arranged a shuttle to pick me up from my car, drive me out 30 miles and drop me off.

The nerves hit the night before as I packed, double and triple checking my gear and food. If I forgot something I was on my own, there was no magic but my own to fix the situation. I tried to remember everything my dear friend had taught me. I hoped and prayed that it would be enough. Nerves carried me to the trailhead after my drop. A few deep breaths and my poles, pack and I were off. Within 10 feet the nerves were gone, my body seemed to remember how to use the poles and stride with a weighted pack. There was no fear about being alone on the trail, for I was alone. It took three hours to spot another human.

I walked in silence and peaceful bliss along a tree covered ridge-line with a smile on my face. There were not many views, but there was peace and beauty. I had packed headphones in case the silence became deafening, but it never did. I enjoyed listening to the birds, insects and my own thoughts spun uninterrupted. Personally, I had been craving this trip, a chance to get away with my own thoughts and heal without distractions. On the trail my mind was clear, there were no distractions, but the initial driving impetus of this trip had fallen away. This trip became about me being comfortable in the silence of my mind. For someone with anxiety, this can be a challenge, there's always a lurking fear that the anxiety will take hold and spiral you. I could not afford to have an anxiety spiral on the trail. Thankfully, my anxiety never surfaced, not even when I was a few miles from camp and running low on water and energy. It wasn't one of those times where I had just mastered the anxiety or was ignoring it; it 100% was not present. The mountains were speaking to my soul, and in that moment I knew that I was going to be fine.

This trip was not about the recreating the magic found on my first trip, but creating a new type of magic. There is no recreating that kind of magic that I had Memorial Day weekend. I carry it with me still.  This solo trip required a new brand of courage and for me to delve into my own magic. I'm not saying there weren't moments that I didn't wish for my friend, but I was content to be solo. Alone on the trail you learn more about yourself than imaginable. If you read accounts of thru-hikers or talk to any you will learn that they all say the same thing after finishing: life will never be the same. While my short hike (28.5 miles or 1.3% of the AT) cannot compare to a thru-hike, I know that I am forever changed.

I know that I am a stronger hiker than I thought when developing my plans. My Memorial Day hike we covered about 26 miles over the 2 days, so I planned a 28 mile hike figuring that I would be moving slower without assistance. Day 1 I covered 16.8 miles and realized that I would reach my car the next day around 2 at that pace. I made plans to hike past the car to get my 2 nights in the woods. Apparently, the universe had other plans for me, as on Day 2 the rain came crashing down about a mile and a half from my car and the forecast called for more rain and thunderstorms. While I had the opportunity to continue hiking, I decided that I had achieved my goal and consider it a successful hike even if it was just 1 night out.

I found peace and happiness along the trail, despite the challenges and pain. I found more of me. I listened to the voices in my head about true abilities, my courage, my love and the possibilities of the future. Though I left the trail soaked and looking like a drowned rat, I left with hope and love in my heart, complete in a newfound magic built on the base created in May.

Day 1 (16.8 miles)

Day 2 from start to a wet soggy finish at my car (11.7 miles)

Hope

Hope.

It's just a short little four letter word, but it's a powerful one. Sometimes I think that hope gets to have this negative connotation. It seems to be that some people think you can have too much hope, while what they're often experiencing is delusions of grandeur. True hope isn't about believing in something unattainable, it's a belief that this isn't the end. It isn't about being a Pollyanna, nor about the silver lining and only seeing the positivity of a situation.

Hope is about acknowledging the mess and the chaos and finding that sliver of light in your tunnel. It's finding a small part of a situation that you can change. It's not giving up despite the obstacles, but doing it from a place of love and not resentment. You can't house hope with resentment and anger. Hope pairs with love and faith. Hope can lead to faith and love. Hope says I see your mess, I see the chaos, I see the darkness, but I see YOU through all of that.

It's why I have it tattooed on my wrist within an infinity loop. It's a daily reminder that hope is eternal, endless, infinite. That it will never leave me. That, in having hope I can lead my life towards the light and love that we all seek. My friends know me so well that in dark moments the word hope is a cue from them to me to have faith, stay the course and believe. There have been many moments the past year where I have questioned my tattoo choice, thinking that instead I should have chosen patience or faith as I seem to need those lessons the most. In the end though I know that HOPE was the word I needed at the time and still to do this day.

Faith

I have posted a lot about the emotional changes that I have experienced with my divorce, but I haven't ever really addressed the spiritual changes. I keep my spirituality fairly close to me and it's not something I share about often, but it has been an interesting part of this journey. One of my largest fears was having to tell my pastor that I was getting a divorce. I expected judgement, and possibly harsh treatment, but I was met with the complete opposite: Love and Compassion. He told me he had been praying for a different outcome, but that he (and the church) would support me and my kids in any way possible. I was floored, in fact I believe I started crying in the middle of our meeting. It was so many months ago at this point I don't remember the details. But I will remember the love, compassion and his statement that God wanted me to be happy, that I was created to be happy. It was more than I could have imagined and filled me with love that I desperately needed at the time. In fact, my pastor connected me with two other women also going through a divorce in our church. We have become a small local support system to each other in this storm that is divorce.

Personally, I have struggled with attending church. While my faith has not truly wavered, it has been tested. I would sit in church and hold back the tears watching the families. Or there was the time I inadvertently attended the mass for engaged couples. It took all of my strength and courage to not walk out; to sit there and listen to their love and blessings and know that I no longer had that. It was crushing. I didn't want to return to church for weeks following, but I did for my kids. They have watched me sit and sniffle and wipe at my eyes as we pray and sing in church. I have sat and listened to sermons about the joys and special thing that is marriage and contained myself from crying or walking out. I have listened to the cute little old ladies of the church invite me to marriage encounters and I smile and say I'm getting divorced. Their poor faces say it all, pity and confusion.

I have sat in church unable to contain the tears, and eventually excuse myself for a few minutes. Let me tell you the looks I got leaving 4 kids sitting in a pew as I walk out with tears streaming down my face. It's never one particular thing that may trigger the tears, but sometimes it's just this overwhelming emotion that I can't contain. It's heartbreaking to sit in a pew and cry silently while being surrounded by your loving children and have one of them keep looking at you with this confused face. Even today, listening to the readings about God making Eve from Adam's rib and new testament stories about divorce and remarriage and adultery hurt and brought me close to tears. But a few deep breaths and a focus on my kids and my tracing my tattoo and all was as well as it could be.

I have been blessed to have part of my faith renewed this summer. As you all are aware I made multiple trips to Madison, WI and on that first trip I was seized with a strong desire to pray. If I'm totally honest I was never a daily prayer kind of person, other than at the dinner table. I prayed at times, but since that first trip it has become almost a daily part of my bedtime routine. I give thanks for the blessings I have, ask for blessings on my friends and family, and do my best to single out specific people that have made an impact in my life. I'm sure some of you may be able guess who they are if you know me personally. I pray for continued faith and strength and for healing.

It doesn't mean that some days aren't more challenging than others, and it certainly doesn't mean that there are times that I want to yell and scream Why Me? In fact I've been know to ask many times in my nightly prayers, but as I write in my journal often, I just need to have faith and patience. The faith is usually there, patience not as much. And maybe, it's not so much of patience as it is courage. I never feel like I have enough courage, it's always in short supply. But that's the beauty of faith, believing that I will receive the courage and patience when I most need it. This divorce journey has changed me in so many areas, and been a process of self discovery, but I never imagined it would make my faith grow.