Wow, I’ve got a birthday coming up this week, number 57.  Boy, has that got me thinking.  It’s not one of those memorable benchmark days like “Sweet Sixteen”.   My Godparents threw me a basement party that year.  On my 18th birthday I was old enough to vote, and just a few months from being able to legally buy beer in my home state of Michigan. It only took lawmakers six years to realize their mistake, and change the legal drinking age back to 21. 

My co-workers at the television station gave me a surprise party on my 25th birthday.  I still have the now tattered paperback copy of the “Joy of Cooking” book set I received as a gift.  I don’t remember who it was from.  I do remember crying during those early morning hours after everyone had left.   I could blame the rum and cokes I’d had that night, but it was really the frightening realization that I was half way to 50, and  a quarter of a century old.  Back then I thought life must be all downhill from 25.   So, what are my thoughts now on the threshold of 57?

I’ve been told I look younger than my years.  That’s comforting.  More importantly I suppose is how I feel.  Most days there is a youthful energy throughout my body.   I’ve learned to breathed deeply, and enjoy the feel of not just oxygen, but the force of life itself throughout my cells. 

Some call the body the “temple” of our soul.  It’s a divine gift that I admit often abusing.   I’ve overworked it, submitted it to yo-yo diets, and  even cursed it for clinging to too many of the calories I consumed.  Despite all that my body rarely complains, and continues to give me it’s best effort.  

On some days I do get unexplained aches, my joints are occasionally bothersome, and I still have trouble touching my toes in a full forward bend.  But, I can swim 20 laps, walk four miles, and kick up into a headstand.   Still, I am aware that my time to use this God-given gift is running short. 

I certainly don’t think I’m old.  Every year my marker for old age gets pushed further back.   The years have brought some limitations on what I can do.  I respect that.  I’ve discovered there’s usually a healthy alternative for many of my limitations.   For example, I no longer have the stamina for the extensive night life I enjoyed in my youth.  Now, I cherish the early morning hours as a time for contemplation, meditation, and planning.

I still have some “growing up” to do.  Hopefully, as my physical ability and appearance continues to change over the years, I will find the maturity to embrace it as a wonderful part of my life’s journey. 

I’m looking forward to well wishes from family and friends for a happy birthday.  Even as I prepare to celebrate this birthday, I hope there are many more to follow.    When I think about my feelings on turning 57 one word comes to mind, grateful.

 I’m still a little sweaty from my Sunday morning walk. I left the house a little after sunrise hoping to beat the heat, and burn some calories. I’m back home now, still carrying all the excess weight I started out with. But, I’m also filled with appreciation for many of the small blessings I normally overlook on my fitness trek.

I managed to keep a steady pace for the two miles to Steele Creek Lodge Park. My mind was focused on the one pound weighs on each wrist, and the nagging ache in my left hip. By the time I reached the Gazebo at the end of the park I was ready for a water break. That’s when my mind shifted to the beauty all around me.

The sun rising from the east over the creek is reward enough for the 30 minute walk. It made me think what other tiny blessings had I raced by without noticing on my way to the park this morning?

I do know the water has a way of making everything seem more peaceful.

The same ducks that I’ve passed many times before were there. Maybe I’ll bring some bread or crackers for them on my next trip.

I had my camera ready for the beautiful butterfly I spotted resting in a tree. Since the small insect has no vanity, I like to think the divine artistic design on it’s wings is just for my enjoyment.

A few minutes later I almost stepped on a caterpillar slowly making it’s way across the paved road. I wonder if it knows there’s a miraculous transformation in it’s future. That is if it survives the perils on the street, and the grassy area on the other side. For now it seems to be camouflaged from the birds perched on the nearby power lines.

The squirrels are out searching for breakfast too. My ears are open by now, and I can hear all sorts of birds and insects. Some sounds I can match with creatures, others I can’t.

I confess I don’t pay much attention to the blooms on the trees, and most days I might walk right by the dragonfly sitting quietly atop my street sign. But, today I’m thankful for all the life around me,  and another day to enjoy it.

These little blessings mean a lot when I take a moment to notice them.

“Do you believe in heaven?” That’s what a friend asked me in a crowded bar over the holiday weekend.  Her words are still ringing in my ears and my mind.  I immediately responded yes to the question that’s always been true for me.  What’s changed over the years however, is my interpretation of heaven, and what it means to my life, and others who share the planet with me.

It was my Godmother who taught me to recite  the 23rd Psalm before I started kindergarten.   She laughed when I asked her who Shirley was, as in ‘Shirley goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.’   Back then heaven was literally paved with streets of gold.   It was where I prayed “The Lord my soul to take, if I should die before I wake.”    Of course, I was older before I had any understanding of death.

For most of my early life, even young adulthood, heaven was a bit of a mystery.  I knew I wanted to go there, I just wasn’t in any hurry about the trip.   There was a radical change in my perception of heaven by the time I reached my late 20’s.  That’s the time I joined a religion that taught heaven was a place for God, angels, and only a few humans who would rule over a paradise earth.  I left that religion and it’s teachings behind a few years ago.  Now, without the dogma of a rigid belief system I find myself without any certain answers when it comes to heaven.

Maybe it is the final reward for a life well lived as preached from the pulpits of many Christian churches.  Or perhaps as some believe it’s kind of a transfer station as we move from one reincarnation to the next.  Others say there are different levels in heaven set aside for individuals based on their ranks on earth.  I just don’t know.

The sacred writings of various religions provide satisfying answers for many believers.  That’s got to be a good thing.  I see no harm in beliefs that bring peace, comfort, and stability into our lives, and our world.  Personally, I no longer promote one religion over another.  I find myself growing more comfortable and at peace with life’s uncertainties. 

I pray there is room in heavens realm for more than one group of worshipers.  And, I sincerely hope we don’t have to have all the answers before we can gain admittance.
I am fairly certain of one thing.  If we each live according to divine rules anchored in love, compassion and peace our lives together on earth might be truly heavenly.