Reflections upon turning 55
I recently turned fifty-five, which I’ve been calling my “speed limit” year. I tend to check in with myself every time I hit these things. Twenty-two. Thirty-three. Forty-four. Maybe someday, God willing, I’ll write another post like this at sixty-six.
While I don’t feel the need to change much about how I conduct my life relative to my passion, which is writing, I have had to put greater emphasis on other things. My health becomes more and more important as the years pass, and if I want to write that blog entry at sixty-six, I need to stay serious about it. And I’ve made tiny changes, like no longer buying t-shirts. A guy who’s almost sixty should not be wearing t-shirts. Feel free to disagree.
I spend more time with my wife. I listen better. I talk, if not less, then with a reduced amount of blather. I’m kinder. I communicate more fully with my son. I’m a more attentive friend. These are all good things.
You don’t have to wait until a double-year to change how you live and, by extension, change who you are. I find it convenient to take stock of things on those birthdays. And maybe you will, too, no matter which one you’re hitting. The important thing is to do it and not allow years to slip away without a second thought. You have fewer than you think. It matters how you choose to live.
Happy birthday to me.