On Being 80 ( and how I'd like to reflect on my 40's then)
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On Being 80 ( and how I'd like to reflect on my 40's then)
Since turning 40, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what life will be like when I’m 80. ( I know, I know. I have a thing about numbers). But hear me out.
The year I turned 40, I realized a few things.
I wanted to work from home, permanently, in order to live a life that was flexible for both myself and my daughters.
I had a lot of shit to work through if I was going to model healthy boundaries, coping skills, and thought life for my own kids.
Cooking and food aren’t just necessary tasks for living; they are an opportunity to connect to the earth, to my senses, and to others in a deeply nourishing way that I find myself thinking about constantly.
I have no idea what I think about anything unless I write about it.
I need to learn how to sleep better and prioritize it.
I want to feel rooted and connected to my own body and spirituality in a way that is centering and healing, and no longer shaming or belittling.
The investment I’ve made in friendships has been one of the best I’ve ever made.
Not using my voice in the way I’ve been trained to ( teaching, singing, speaking, etc) has greatly affected my self-esteem in a way I need to rectify.
I have my dream home and wake up every morning thrilled to be where I am- that is a gift.
I no longer want to hustle or grind or any of the other offensive words we use to describe the thing that women who work both in and “outside” of the home do to stay afloat. I don’t have anything to prove. I deserve to rest and play and work in equal proportions. I will seek out only those opportunities that allow space for that.
What does this have to do with turning 80?
When I’m 80, I want to be well-rested, accomplished, and happy- a Grannie to my own or adopted community grand babies. End of story. Everything I do now will lead me there.
So, I started going to therapy. I got a new remote job I love, doing good work with people who really want the best for others. I got a bite plate for my insanely painful TMJ that was really putting a cramp in my already terrible sleeping habits. I checked out new cookbooks from the library and began cooking through them with the ingredients I could find on my local farms. I sat at the piano and remembered how singing isn’t just something I do- but it’s how I heal, and I’m tired of feeling imposter-syndrome-y or frivolous or even shamed about it for fear it sounds self-centered or ridiculous. I am a singer, this is who I am. Whatever.
You can’t be too old to be who you are.
I began sending out manuscripts- I have quite a few. Some kids’ books, some memoirs, some fiction. Because I am also a writer. I entered a competition on a whim and writing and food- and was accepted (more news on that June 12!). I began seeking out some opportunities to use my voice in a way that I haven’t in a long time- because it had gotten bottled up in there, and needs to be let out to breathe.
When I am 80, I hope I look back on my 40s as the time I saw myself for the very first time- and liked me. Wanted to care for me. Wanted to love, me. I hope I see it as a turning point- the year I grabbed hold of everything I loved and held it up to the light like baby Simba and proclaimed it to be good- who cares what anyone else says?
What’s Nourishing Me?
1. Ben Rector’s 2022 album, “The Joy of Music” has been on repeat in my head and in my speakers for weeks and it’s showing no signs of stopping. What a brilliant, beautiful album.
2. I began setting a timer for work tasks, and I’ve never felt more accomplished. I choose three projects to focus on a day and set a timer for each one. Do they get finished during the time allotted? Never. But I make considerable headway, I have measurable progress and my deadlines are reached much faster.
3. My dream day would be to have uninterrupted time to make and prep homemade stocks, sauces, dressings, and dips while taking writing and singing breaks that would culminate in a dinner party at the end with all of my favorite people. I’m going to see it happen at least once this summer.
4. SUMMER IS COMING. It is time for swimming and bare legs and corn on the cob and watermelon and only cooking on the grill and outdoor concerts and fire pits and I AM HERE FOR IT.
5. Barbara Kingsolver’s latest masterpiece, “Demon Copperhead”
finally released my brain from it’s anti-fiction prison and I am so grateful. Also, a re-read of, “The Night Circus” was the perfect gateway.
I made my own Baharat spice mix and it’s delightful.
I used this recipe: https://www.laweekly.com/cookbook-of-the-week-jerusalem-a-cookbook-yotam-
I rubbed some chicken parts with it with an obscene amount of olive oil and drizzled lemon juice on them after they came off the grill. Sprinkled with fresh parsley and cilantro and stuffed into homemade pitas with pickled vegetables -you’ve got a weeknight summer meal that will fit perfectly in your rotation.
French pastry just isn’t something this self-taught, home chef can do. Thankfully now that Chocolatine exists, I never have to worry about it again. Yes, the chocolate croissant is outstanding- but do not pass over the pistachio pastry. Don’t do it. Thank me later.
Alright, my friends- I hope that by the time I’m 80, I will be full to bursting from eating my own words. What good is life if we don’t evolve?
And who decided evolution can’t be delicious?