Yesterday after months of secret angst, I turned fifty. Now that I’ve passed that venerable milestone, I realize what I had been dreading wasn’t being fifty by turning fifty. Among women of a certain age, there is a widespread expectation (spoken or implied) that you should Do Something Grand for milestone birthdays, and my usual low-key celebratory style felt completely inadequate, at least in my imagined build up to The Event.
But now that the auspicious occasion is officially over, I can say I celebrated as I (if nobody else) saw fit. In the morning, I went to the Zen Center, left after one meditation session, then walked to Harvard Square, where I explored the old burying ground–there is nothing like visiting graves of the centuries-ago deceased to put your life in perspective–before stopping at Burdick’s, where I treated myself to half a slice of raspberry-chocolate cake and a small dark hot chocolate. And under the combined influence of meditation, a brisk walk, and high octane chocolate, I did something I love to do but hadn’t done in ages: I sat in a cafe and wrote, starting with nothing to say and eventually finding words to describe why turning fifty has been unsettling. I wrote my way, in other words, into my own sort of clarity.
This is how I’ve navigated the first fifty years of my life, so why wouldn’t it be an apt way to celebrate the commencement of the next? After that first decadent treat, the rest of the day unspooled like any other Sunday: J and I walked to lunch at our favorite Thai restaurant, where our waiter surprised us with ice cream, and then we played with the dogs in the yard in the afternoon, as we normally do.
It was a quiet and contemplative day–no grand trips or parties or eye-popping spectacles to advertise on social media–but it was a day with all the things I love: walking and meditating and time with J and the dogs. And it was a day, too, with not one but three deserts: Burdicks cake and hot chocolate in the morning, Thai ice cream at lunch, and a slice of chocolate peanut butter cake in the evening. It was a day, in other words, with an abundance of delights.
At some point, I’ll blog the journal entry I wrote yesterday at Burdicks, but for now all that’s necessary is to note I had a quietly delightful day and couldn’t have wished for anything better. If the way you spend your birthday is the way you’ll spend the coming year, please sign me up for fifty more.
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:48 pm
This post makes me smile. Wishing you so much joy, Lorianne — now and always!
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Jan 8, 2019 at 8:37 am
Thank you, Rachel. I wish you the same.
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Jan 7, 2019 at 9:54 pm
Happy birthday! I go over the Cliff of Fifty later this year, in August. It’s good to read this perspective on what it is to pass that psychological threshold. Peace and blessings to you.
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Jan 8, 2019 at 8:37 am
Thank you, and best wishes for the remaining days of your 40s.
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Jan 9, 2019 at 2:25 pm
This is what happened when
I was turning 30– halfway
through the year I realized I
was wasting the year worrying
and I stopped.
Turning 60 (and every milestone
between then and now) last
month was a breeze.
lisa
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Jan 11, 2019 at 6:41 pm
Yes, stopping the wheel of worry makes all the difference, doesn’t it?
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Mar 8, 2019 at 12:42 pm
Lisa—what a moment! That perception has brought you to peace with the inevitability and sweet reality of life.
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Jan 10, 2019 at 10:30 am
Happy birthday dear Lorianne! Many happy returns! and many lovely, quiet celebration days for you if you prefer them
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Jan 11, 2019 at 6:40 pm
Thank you, and happy New Year!
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Jan 11, 2019 at 11:03 pm
Congratulations on your fiftieth
Thiis was a lovely post and reminds me how singing of every kind is living really living and…
Keeping us alive and well
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Jan 13, 2019 at 9:00 am
Thank you, and I think you’re exactly right about singing. The only singing I do these days is in the shower or alone in my car, but even those moments bring joy.
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Mar 8, 2019 at 12:48 pm
I can tell you are all set for another joyful year. Funny how we are influenced by what others do. I admire the 50-by-50 folk and am used to big birthday celebrations. But for me, brunch with family or a few friends is deeply satisfying. Which is not to say I don’t think a lot about ageing, which fascinates me as part of life itself.
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