On Turning Sixty.

So, I’m turning sixty. SIXTY! Sixty. 60. No matter how you slice it, I have six decades of living under my belt.

Up to this point, birthdays ending in “0” have never bothered me.

Ten? Almost a teenager. Groovy!

Twenty? No longer a teenager, thank goodness.

Thirty was okay. A gang of us used to go out for decadent desserts when someone reached that milestone.

Life was so busy around my fortieth birthday it passed without notice. I felt a million years old at that point, so forty was, like, pfft. Not even worth thinking about.

Fifty? Fifty heralded the best years of my life. I was old enough to know better, but young enough to do it anyhow, with a bit more free time to carry things off.

But this sixty thing? That’s old.

(Says my brain.)

Thankfully, my heart disagrees, but it wasn’t quite that easy. For almost a year I’ve wrestled with this birthday — fought it hard — but my perspective gradually changed, and the lilt of a poem we all know took over.

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

~ Dr. Seuss ~

Yes, I AM the guy, and rather than wishing this birthday away, I’ve decided to say, “I’m SIXTY, and that’s okay.” (Hey, that kinda rhymes.)

New challenges? Find some.

Bucket List? Make one and start striking things off.

Grandchildren? Invest more time. It’s easy to lose track when their own lives become busier.

Writing? Get cracking instead of waiting for that mythical free day.

Friends? Yes, you! I love getting to know people more deeply. If you’d like a coffee date, just say so. I do so much better one-on-one than in a larger group, and in this new decade I’d like to know my many acquaintances better.

Now there’s my first challenge — not too difficult — and one I’d really enjoy. Coffee anyone?