At 7:54 on a Wednesday morning, in a big bath tub overlook the Andes Mountains, I turned 40.
No profound insights to report, except, I felt at ease. The moment was delicate, without spectacle.
I had arrived.
It was the fifth time celebrating my birthday in Peru, and it was the only place in the world I wanted to be when I crossed the midlife threshold. My ritual books were piled high, a curated playlist set the mood, and I was soaking it all in. The view, the vibe, the reality that I was moving into the next phase of life.
Thus, this will be the final post of my 30s blog.
In an effort to come up with some sort of life lessons learned list, I re-read all of my entries from the past decade to reflect on the trials and tribulations, adventures and awakenings, loves, lives and losses I’ve encountered on my journey.
But then I thought maybe I’d write a love letter to my past self, from my present self. Something about how proud I am of the woman who never stops exploring. Or, the admiration for the very difficult self work she did in her 30s that took her to depths she didn’t know she possessed. And the joys from the important relationships she’s encountered, and the grace I give her for the lessons she’s still learning. The immense gratitude I have for how much self-love she’s discovered along the way that I now I have the privilege to carry. And on and on and on.
But honestly, thinking over 30 had me fatigued. I hit a reflection wall. I’m in my acceptance era where analysis feels like paralysis. And presence feels like peace. My post-40 vibe is like, “Yo, it is what it is.”
So let’s keep it simple:
Holly, I love you.
Life, indeed, is all the things. It’s a struggle. It’s delightful. It’s joyful. It’s pain. And it’s all impermanent. And I don’t have the answers. I’m just lucky I’m still here to enjoy the ride, and I’m grateful for the wild and wonderful road that’s led me to this point. And, yes. I am so immensely proud of the courageous, curious and confident woman I’ve become. And I’m still becoming.
So, yeah. Let’s see how 40 unfolds. So far, I feel great! A little wiser, a little sexier. A little more settled in myself. This is the Sacral Year, after all. The Year of Receiving.
And if my Indian astrologer has anything to say about it, this will be the year all my dreams come true. It’s written in the stars.
Cheers to that.
And cheers to those who’ve been even slightly interested in my musings all these years. It’s helped me make sense of this life, and has motivated me to keep sharing.
As the world keeps turning…
Love + light + joy for all the things to come.
Ciao for now.
Thinking Over 30 