Fifty

What does 50 feel like? Even at a young age I imagined a far, distant future time when I’d officially grown up. I wondered what it would be like to be grown, mature, accomplished, knowing. And now having reached the half century milestone I find myself more or less with the same thoughts! So, what will it be like when, finally, I can look back and feel that I’ve arrived somewhere? And when?

50 is 18,250 days. 26,280,000 minutes. 50% of a whole century. Wow, that sounds like a lot.

Feels like only yesterday I was sitting in my fifth grade class writing in my journal about this far off time. Feels like I can certainly look back and count on a lot. Lots behind me, beneath me, within me. Lots that I’ve touched. And still I ride on the thin edge of a time bubble, pushing outward and inward. So much more ahead, above, beyond. So much as yet still needing.

Whether when I was a 10-year-old sprout, or now this 50-year-old specimen, I ask a question about my asking. “Why on earth do you even wonder?”

I can recall a recurring dream when I was a small boy. Asleep in my bed, I’d be awakened to feel a presence in the room. My two brothers remained still and quiet. The presence urged me out of bed, bumping up impatiently against me so that I’d go into the hall, down the stairs, into the kitchen, toward the door. At age 6, 8, 10 this same dream was literally trying to push out the door of our home.

Was it the bubble way back then? The same delicate bubble that’s followed just behind me ever since? The same urging forward, as if I had to go see what I would find?

50 feels like I’m simply more aware of that darn bubble. Aware of the question. Aware of the seeking. And, now also aware of the sheer hilarity of my even asking the questions as if one day, The Answer will float toward me on the wings of a magical butterfly.

Oh, silly boy, silly man.

It’s nothing more than your standard soul-searching, only without the veil of religion to provide comfort and context. It’s natural. A restless reaching for movement when there is really only ever Stillness to be found.

Energy yet to be bridled. Truth yet to be spoken. Union yet to be consummated. Questions yet to be unanswered.

Here I come!