On this quiet evening of turning 52 years, I will share a corner from my heart.
I’m grateful for the wisdom of aging. It is freeing. It is a gift of transforming life’s joys, tragedies and challenges. It’s the continued creation of my story.
Like each of us, we have something to share. Our story is one of a kind and an integral thread in this universe. We all have different gifts and follow a unique calling.
Each person is as necessary as the next.
In my mind, the symmetry of aging is likened to waves weaving. There’s storminess and there’s calm. There’s peace, coupled with living hell. I wish parts didn’t happen but they did. Even when all seems stagnant, it isn’t. The fermentation creates the next chapters.
In my 52 years, my inner strength is having a personal revolution. This makes me smile because it is filled with love and compassion.
My words are finding my voice. 52, also has soulful hum.
The decades have taught me empathy, sensitivity and respect. I was told for so long, being sensitive was a disgrace. It’s not. I see it as part of my skin, the fabric that helps me to see.
When we can open to our intuitive nature, it allows an immeasurable understanding, honoring and titration. It taps into and allows the expansion of a soul.
52 years and I’m honored to learn from the very young as well as savor the wisdom of the old. 52 has showed me on the darkest of days a candle can be lit and it holds hope.
I am grateful for these 52 years of femininity and endurance.
I embrace the woman I am and look forward to seeing where she’ll lead me.
My story will continue to grow.
Written late, on the evening of May 7, 2015.