I had a goal for my sixtieth birthday(which recently passed).
The goal was simply to surprise myself. (Well, over the past year-and-a-half or I so have definitely been doing that!)
At sixty years old, I feel as if I am finally beginning to grow up.
I am beginning to learn to ask for what I want and to take care of myself. I’m taking the first steps. That’s what this trip to Ireland is really about…doing things for myself that I’ve never done before.
I am beginning to take responsibility for how I feel and to let go of blame.
I am moving out of a sense of dependency that I had carried with me for a long, long time. I am being gentle with myself and taking small steps.
As I write this today, I am not quite sure what I am going to do next to support myself…or where my life is taking me. That’s in the realm of the unknown right now; and I am learning that the unknown isn’t good or bad…it’s just unknown.
I am blessed with enough…with more than enough…and I am feeling into the next thing.
I am moving past some really old beliefs about my limits and I’m pushing the edges…just a little bit at a time…just enough. There is a part of me that still can’t quite believe I am living this new life.
I think maybe part of my reason for putting this out here as I am is to own it. It’s less easy to slink bank into one’s comfort zone when one has made an announcement, right? I’m part excited and part nervous. If I look at those two emotions closely enough, I can see how related they are.
There used to be a voice in my head that kept repeating that I’m too old to do this. I’m too old to start a new adventure. I don’t listen to that voice, anymore. It doesn’t know. It doesn’t know my heart.