The average life expectancy for women in the US is 76 years of age. This means, at the ripe age of 41, I have surpassed the average midlife three years ago.
That knowledge never meant anything to me before. I had grand plans. Big ideas. There was a hustle to hustle and goals to achieve and there wasn’t enough time to slow down and take stock of what was really happening.
Until I was in line at the checkout counter and my arms were heavy with the amount of books I was holding. I suddenly realized that I would not live long enough to read all the books in the library.
It was a thought that had never occurred to me before. That I would run out of time before I could see my plans come to fruition. Or even get to the J-K section. And then it just steam-rolled from there.
What if I ran out of time and never chose what I loved?
It got real, real quick.
All of the languages I wanted to learn so I could be an admired polyglot? There isn’t time for that now. Laser focus took over my Duolingo and eliminated all else but French. Why? Because, though I’m pretty proficient in conversational Spanish- I love French. I always have. And all of a sudden, loving something matters very much.
Coffee is deeply personal to me and I take it seriously. I don’t like flavored varieties, how and where it’s ground is important to me, and I prefer it at home than elsewhere. I also love a stir of a cinnamon stick in it just after it’s poured. I love it. And I never do it because it feels wasteful and dumb and not-purest. Pre-ordered cinnamon sticks in bulk from now on.
These might seem like innocuous examples, but I assure you, those of us with OCD could spend literal years in paralysis trying to buy “the best” bedsheets, k?
Ugly tears are the best love meters. Musical theater makes me cry ugly tears. So do Kate DiCamillo middle readers. New England summers. Hosting dinner parties. Children’s choirs. Poetry. Lay theological conversations. Art. People.
People always say that it’s never too late. They’re wrong. It’s too late not to pursue what makes me feel alive at every corner, doorway, opportunity, handshake and hug.
It is too late not to love.
I returned every non-fiction book I took out from the library before I ever made it through the line. Here are the only things I ever need to know: Eat more vegetables and fruit, get more sleep, get outside, move my body more, stop stressing so damn much, and spend more time with people I love. The end. No other input is needed. It’s the stories I need. The ones that have beauty and whimsy and heartbreak and the tedious rebuilding of a life worth living. And maybe some magic. Those are the ones I want to spend the second of this midlife reading. And writing.
I bought a French workbook, loaded my Spotify with French language podcasts, and started looking for a tutor who might be willing to meet so I could practice. I don’t have to wait another 10 years trying to decide.
I stopped trying to be trendy and “eat intuitively” because that shit does NOT work for me and it is TOO LATE for me to be trying things I already know won’t work for me. Though I crave diversity, it’s not really the best way to love my body or my brain. I eat the same things for breakfast and lunch and am free as a bird for dinner. This balance of routine consistency and freedom has done literal wonders. I’m mad it took me this long to figure it out.
I sat back at the piano today for quite a long time. I flipped through twenty years of repertoire. I sang every note. Some I haven’t touched in close to a decade. Some I couldn’t reach a million years now sit solidly in my middle-aged register. My whole body shook in response. I’m not sure what any of it means, really. All I know is this:
This is love. I don’t have time for anything less.
Let Me Nourish You
Part of choosing love is loving others in this way: Here’s a recipe that’s been on rotation in my kitchen this summer for breakfast or lunch, depending.
Green Eggs and Yams Hash
Ingredients
Feeds 4
Approx. Time: 20-25 minutes
For the Hash:
1 lb Sweet Potatoes or Yams, cubed
½ lb Asparagus cut in 1-inch pieces
2 shallots, diced
1 red pepper, diced
2 tbs high burning oil such as avocado
4 eggs
For the Zhoug Sauce:
Yields: 1 and ¼ cup
1 jalapeno
2 cloves of garlic
1 bunch of cilantro (with stems)
½ tsp ground cardamon
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp caraway seeds
½ tsp Aleppo pepper
2.5 tbs lemon juice
⅓ cup of olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
Heat a cast-iron skillet (or non-stick variety) over medium heat and add a tbsp of avocado or canola oil.
Add cubed sweet potatoes/yams to the skillet and season it with salt and pepper, careful not to move the pieces around. Brown on one side, then flip the cubes over; for approximately 7 minutes.
Add the diced red pepper and shallots to the skillet. (Use the remaining oil if necessary.) Sautee for another 5 minutes.
Add the cut asparagus, and stir the hash altogether. Cook for another 5 minutes. Use a fork to check if potatoes are fork-tender. Adjust cooking time accordingly.
Create four little wells/holes in the hash for the eggs. Crack the eggs into each of the holes and cook until the desired doneness.
For the Zhoug Sauce:
Blend all ingredients in the food processor until desired consistency (Think, pesto). Pour as much or as little as your heart desires over the eggs and hash. Serve with crusty bread for dipping/scooping.
We don’t have time, friends.
Eat your words.
Get to dessert.
Love as much and as widely as you can.
Don’t look back.
It’s too late not to love.