I spent a bit of time this morning quietly weeping in solitude. I can do that because I now live alone; except for the cats and they don’t seem to care. I’m also a bit upset with myself because I didn’t stop yesterday. It was 9/11.
It all began when, upon awakening, I spent a good hour catching up on all the social media tributes to NYC, America, 9/11, and the strength of the human spirit. Now you know why the quiet weeping. I also finally watched Joe Biden’s interview with Stephen Colbert which I’d been hearing about all week. (All politics aside, if you haven’t seen it, you should take the time: part 1 here and part 2 here.) What a messy life and what an honest, marvelous tribute to love and his remarkable son. Now you know more about the weeping.
I don’t like to live my life rushing from one thing to another. The week sped by in a blur and despite the Monday holiday, it felt like the longest 4-day week ever. I ran, sometimes literally, from one thing to another starting with Tuesday morning’s coffee disaster until I hit the massage table at 4pm on Friday.
I don’t like to live my life rushing from one thing to another.
Just like my over-scheduled week, we don’t often stop and really take the time to remember and reflect. Gratefully, we do sometimes have culturally-sanctioned ways of doing this: a religious ritual (like Yom Kippur which also falls this week—or Lent), a cultural ritual (Day of the Dead), a recovery ritual (such as Step 4—make a fearless moral inventory), or a day of remembrance (9/11). But too often, we just go blazing through our weeks, month after month, even year after year, without stopping to take stock.
September is my birthday month. (Yes, that’s how I think of it.) When this blog comes out, it will be my birthday week among other relevant life anniversaries. I have made it an annual ritual to pause, reflect, and take stock of my life around my birthday. I didn’t come up with this custom on my own but many years ago, my dear friend and colleague, Jenny, surprised me at my birthday celebration with the question that I now pop to my friends at their parties, “What is the greatest lesson from your last year of life?” She named this reflection tradition “Birthday Wisdom.”
“What is the greatest lesson from your last year of life?”
Oddly enough, the month of May has become one of my annual times of taking stock. Ten years ago in 2005, I made the hard decision to leave full time private practice which had previously been my ultimate career goal. My peers thought I was crazy and said I was moving backwards: my practice was thriving and I was returning to institutional life. It was a leap of faith. I thought I was making a job change but it turned into many unexpected life changes.
This May, I spent a fair amount of cognitive space reviewing the last decade which has offered me some of the most difficult challenges I’ve ever faced. Some very sad losses. Some of the greatest griefs. I also embarked on many remarkable opportunities. Some of the most beautiful experiences. Some of the grandest adventures. Some of the deepest of friendships. It has been a profound period of time in the overall shape of my life’s course. As I take stock on it, I see all the ways I’ve been pushed to grow.
This birthday is one of those big ones.” You know, the kind they put on speed limit signs. In ten more years, another speed limit sign will act as a reminder of the passing of time. I have no idea what lies ahead on my current road but it will undoubtedly make turns I’ve not expected. Rather than racing through an over-scheduled life, I need to remember to also heed the “YIELD” and “STOP” signs and to wander off course at times.
And this year’s Birthday Wisdom? I’m not sure yet—I’m still reflecting and taking stock. But stay tuned–it might just end up in another blog.
So take time to Take Stock because Life is Messy and Life is Marvelous.