They even decorated a black easy chair with colorful balloons. I laughed with the rest of them, but I thought, ”Wait a minute. I'm not ready for an ebony E-Z-Boy yet . What's so special about 50?‘
Nothing, of course. Though I had been at the same job for 25 years and my bucket list was still full.
The black lounger precipitated one of those potentially disastrous life changes. I resolved to quit my day job and become a full-time writer- illustrator, though the transition took more than a year.
Sometimes we choose mega changes in our lives. Sometimes they ambush us: debilitating or fatal diseases, death of a loved one, war, a hurricane, or even an errant asteroid. Fortunately for me, deliberate choices have predominated.
I chose to move to Colorado with my biology degrees and each. I chose to get married and abandon teaching to pursue a somewhat nebulous career path in the arts. Each choice closed some doors but opened new windows of opportunity.
As a biologist -turned-amateur paleontologist, I know large-scale disasters have forged the living world around us.
Pond scum invented photosynthesis and polluted the planet with oxygen. Complex plants and animals thrived. Later, a volcanic hot spot in what is now Siberia poisoned the atmosphere for a million years, killing off 95 percent of everything.
Little dinosaurs with hollow bones survived the ordeal and dazzled ecologies for the next 160 million years. Then, an asteroid fell on their heads and mammals scurried out of their tunnels and transformed Mother Earth yet again.
Change at all scales never happens simply or without consequences.
While I worked as a graphic artist, my wife raised the kids and worked part-time. When I quit to write books and draw pictures, my wife delivered mail for 16 years. I took a part-time job with a newspaper and somehow morphed into a journalist . During my post-50 journeys, I've written more than a dozen books and won awards for both writing and illustrating.
Our independent kids are grown, and my wife and I still like spending time together. She has pursued her passions, too. I've seen more of the world (and stayed in reasonably good shape) pulled along in her athletic wake.
We both compensate for aging body parts.
She won't play tennis again until she gets a knee replaced. I won't even consider riding a bull again but then I wouldn't have tried the flrst time except for those high, 20-something testosterone levels.
Advancing age may bank the flres a little and dull a few tools, but it also provides reflective serenity and enhanced experience that tends to encourage more choices of the ” well reasoned‘ variety.
So now I'm nearly ready to ask, "What's so special about 70?"
Nothing, of course. Except the chance to pursue more new beginnings. My bucket list is not close to empty.
While I worked as a graphic artist, my wife raised the kids and worked part-time. When I quit to write books and draw pictures, my wife delivered mail for 16 years. I took a part-time job with a newspaper and somehow morphed into a journalist . During my post-50 journeys, I've written more than a dozen books and won awards for both writing and illustrating.
Our independent kids are grown, and my wife and I still like spending time together. She has pursued her passions, too. I've seen more of the world (and stayed in reasonably good shape) pulled along in her athletic wake.
We both compensate for aging body parts.
She won't play tennis again until she gets a knee replaced. I won't even consider riding a bull again but then I wouldn't have tried the flrst time except for those high, 20-something testosterone levels.
Advancing age may bank the flres a little and dull a few tools, but it also provides reflective serenity and enhanced experience that tends to encourage more choices of the ” well reasoned‘ variety.
So now I'm nearly ready to ask, "What's so special about 70?"
Nothing, of course. Except the chance to pursue more new beginnings. My bucket list is not close to empty.
