I don’t think it is really the birthday that brought me to this place.
It might be the sudden funeral of a dear friend in the Kalahari?
Or going back to the Kalahari, which we left almost ten years ago – the realization of a decade flying by?
My son was two when we left.
He is now twelve.
Soon he’ll be more than my pier.
Maybe it is the baby we have on the way?
Maybe it is my friend’s widow who, after many years of giving her life to affecting others, now barely survives on what could be accumulated through a life of giving?
It could be the sum of seven years of living & trying & professionally surviving, but not truly seeing progress on this road of dreams & hope.
Maybe it is all of this rolled into one single moment.
Perhaps it is just turning forty & I am typical of everyone else who turns forty and suddenly realizes we do not live forever, kids grow up & time lost is time lost forever.
Whatever it is, I am rethinking my life.
I am considering what I’ve been spending it on.
I am wondering if it has been meaningful.
If it has been in rhythm with everything I value.
This is difficult.
It is hard.
I’m wondering if I still have the opportunity to do it differently?
The dreamer inside of me screams: ‘yes’!
The forty-year old cynically whispers: ‘just see it through’.
I wonder which will be the most convincing.
I’m hoping I will know soon, for I’ve never been one to settle and I desperately hope not to be disappointed at sixty.
I wonder …
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