Forty-One

If you don't know by now that my brain is constantly spinning like a whirling Dervish then, well, you haven't been paying attention. Readers more familiar with my neurosis are well aware that my cognitive function doesn't come with an off-switch, and no doubt anticipated that my birthday would bring with it a great deal of reflection. I turned forty-one this past Friday. After a wonderful weekend visit with an old friend, good times spent with friends, and then some shocking news followed by an unwanted phone call and five hours traveling alone for work today, needless to say I've done some thinking. The end result of my introspective meditation is this determination: In the grand scheme of things, I don't know a goddamn thing.

 

Now, of course I know things. I know a lot of things. I like to think that I am not just an educated man, but a learned man, one who has been able to learn from my experiences, both academic and practical. But then I spend a couple days with someone close, and wonder about the past. I receive an email from my law school telling me of the shockingly untimely death of one of my favorite professors, someone far too young, passionate and vibrant to be leaving us so soon. I have a phone call to finalize the details a divorce I hadn't wanted. I am thrown into a vortex of emotion and thought that could only be described as a Category Five in meteorological terms. Yet here I am, left wondering why about a myriad of events and circumstances, when I know I'll receive no answer.

 

In times like these I typically turn to music to find some solace. Last year, as I turned forty, I took the clichéd route and reflected upon my life to the tune of Jimmy Buffett's A Pirate Looks At Forty. In the last couple of years, however, there have been so many happenings and such unexpected happenstance that I've been drawn to calling my faith into question. I want to believe that everything happens for a reason. I want to believe that the path I'm on is truly the one upon which I'm meant to tread. I so desperately need to know that there is some cosmic plan of which my part has yet to be fully revealed. So yes, I still find comfort in words and melody. This year, upon the passage of another year of my life, I find myself listening to Kip Moore's Faith When I Fall over and over again:

 

I know it's been a long time since the last time we talked
I know I've been a stranger and that's all my fault
And asking you for anything don't really seem right
But the winds of change are blowing so I'm begging you tonight

Give me love when I ain't got nobody
A little hope when I ain't got none at all
Give me light up ahead on a journey
Give me strength when I'm standing
And faith when I fall

 

The winds of change have been blustering in my life for some time and admittedly, as in the song, my faith has faltered as of late such that perhaps I've not turned my thoughts upward as often as I should. Still, I find myself reaching out, asking for forgiveness and guidance when it seems I've none. It's been in those fleeting moments of humble piety that I am reminded of the gifts in my life.

 

I am forty-one years old. No longer forty, but in my forties. In years past I would have assumed that, at this stage in my life, I would possess an inherent wisdom resulting from years of life and experience. That expectation, as with most anticipation, was fanciful at best. I stand by my earliest statement that, in the grand scheme of things, I know nothing. None of us do. There is far too much in motion, far too many factors affecting our lives for us to have the first clue as to what is truly going on… Nevertheless, there are those things of which we are indubitably aware. Here is what I know:

 

I know that I am blessed with some of the most extraordinary friends for whom a man could ask. My friends do not all know one another, yet each of them love and support me. There are those whom I've known for more than half my life, who are always honest with me, even when the truth may hurt me. They care enough to never be anything other than who they are, nor to let me be anything other than what I am. I have others still with whom I've been able to reconnect and who have made me an integral part of their lives as if I'd always been there. Others still have come into my life in the most recent years, leaving an indelible mark on my heart for which I will forever be grateful. And there is a group of friends, all related by blood, who mean so much to me I do consider them family, despite the fact we've only seen each other far too infrequently. In some cases I've not yet even met them, but consider them famiglia just the same.  

 

My friends are my life. I know too that I am lucky enough to have two wonderful sisters whom I also call friends. I have a large extended family, any one of whom I could call in the middle of the darkest night and they would be there to help light my way. I have two parents who love me as if I was still their infant child, with such care that is truly humbling. I know that each of them, friend or family or both, are gifts the likes of which I neither deserve, nor shall take for granted.

 

I know I am not perfect, though I still give far too much credence to my own misgivings and shortcomings. I try to remind myself that there is no wise man without fault, having tattooed those very words in Gaelic on my left arm. A constant aide-mémoire to carry with me on every step of my life's journey, I need only look down to remember that even the wisest among us are not without their own failings and inadequacies. Admittedly I shouldn't need a permanent inking of my flesh to accept that notion, but sometimes it is the little things, the constant reminders, that help the most.

 

I know that I can be quirky and eclectic and that I should make no apologies for either characteristic. Sometimes I do, regardless. Sometimes I simply chuckle and express it even more. Whether it's wearing a cowboy hat and belting out Chris Young songs in the Jeep, causing nearby motorists to laugh, or staging vintage Star Wars figures in silly photos, I know that sometimes my actions will bring forth teasing and mockery. I really don't care. If I was afraid of that consequence, or would be dramatically affected by it, I wouldn't do it. I am a jeans and Jeep, sci-fi loving, country boy stuffed in a suit and tie. Some don't believe me, some may not choose to, but that's who and what I am.

 

I know that no matter what I do it will never be enough for some people, myself included. I know I need to get over that, but such a task is far easier said than done. I'm working on it, and am far better at it now, at forty-one, than I was even a year ago. I know I have a strength within me upon which I can draw, and the strength of others will lift me when I falter.

 

I know that for all of the above I am grateful. For my friends, my family, my own strengths and weaknesses, for they all serve to help mold the man I am. I know that at forty-one years old I am better, wiser, stronger, more humble, and loved to a far greater degree than perhaps I realize sometimes. And once again I know there is a greatness to me if  I choose to see it and accept it.

 

I know I need to embrace the little things in life. There's a book out there called Don't Sweat the Small Stuff. I call bullshit. It's the small stuff that matters. It's the small stuff that makes up the big stuff. Accept the small stuff. Embrace it. See it for what it is. Someday you may regret ignoring just one, tiny little thing that seemed insignificant at the time. It's not, so don't pretend it is.

 

I know I am forty-one years old. I grow older each day, but it's neither my age that defines me, nor the weight I wish to lose, nor the pain or loss I feel, nor anger, nor regret, nor desire. I define me. With my actions, with these words, with tears in my eyes or the wrinkles creeping from the edges of eyes each time I smile. I make me. I shape me. Yes, there are those times when I need a little assistance. I may look to the heavens, or I may look to my friends and family, but I choose to seek help from those that are a part of me, in so many ways.

 

I know who I am. I may not like me sometimes. I may criticize myself, laud myself, or sometimes even hate myself. There will be times I may not recognize myself, or not remember myself precisely, but through it all I know who I am. I just need to make sure I'm letting that person free. And though I know that I'll have strength when I'm standing, I will try my hardest to have faith when I fall.

 

If nothing else, I know that I'm not alone with these feelings, and when all is said and done, sometimes all it takes is a simple message or text to put a smile on my face and I am me once again. That I received a message from an old friend, for whom I carried a torch years ago, telling me that I look hot in my cowboy hat? Well, that's just icing on the cake.

 

I know I'm forty-one years old. I know you're right here with me. Thank you. Always.

 

 

~ JJ

 

 

© 2014 J.J. Goodman. All rights reserved.