There’s something about fall that’s undeniable. But it’s much more than the change of seasons, the shorter days, and all the pumpkin spice. The equinox and the harvest moon usher in an internal “knowing,” as if on a symbolic level, this is the time to harvest what we've been tending to over the seasons in our lives, whether several months or even years.
Every year when September rolls around, I pause and look at the runway behind me and wonder where the days have gone. The paradox lies in feeling like I’ve been around forever but somehow, I just arrived here yesterday. I walk the tightrope of feeling melancholy and joyful at the same time, knowing it's okay, and that it simply means I am human.
So, here I am after another beautiful trip around the sun which I can only see in my rear-view mirror. I have a mind full of memories, a heart full of love, an iPhone full of pictures, and a thousand stories I can thankfully retell. I thank God I am still celebrating every day.
What an incredible perspective it is, to stand on the bridge of today – the only day of the year where I can feel grateful for the past and feel hopeful about the future.
This morning, I saw an actuarial table that stated only 12% of women my age are expected to live to age 70. If I were a statistic rather than myself, this would give me just seven years of runway left. There was a quote I read about 10 years ago that stated, “Time is a thief,” and that stuck with me. When I look into the eyes of my grandbabies it’s like a time machine that takes me back. I close my eyes and it’s 1984. Erica’s chubby little hand is wrapped around my finger as she takes her first step.
That's the thing about memories; they’re like ghosts that come out of the attic of our minds and morph with the visions of today to remind us of how sweet life has been and still is. It makes me want more of what I had in the past, combined with the depth of gratitude and deep understanding of how it’s all shaped my life.
So, when I saw this “12% die at 70” nonsense today, it really changed things for me. It made me realize that the runway ahead of me could be very short … or at least, shorter than I would like it to be. And it makes me realize – it’s time.
It’s time to drop the rope. So many of us have been stuck in a 4th grade game of “tug-o-war” and no one will drop the rope. So, I’m dropping the rope because it’s better to be kind than to try to be right.
It’s time to live life as a “Hell Yes” rather than just a “Maybe.” Saying “maybe” with a short runway ahead is more like saying “We’ll see,” to a three-year-old who wants to go to the park. It never goes well.
It’s time to take off the mask. Not the mask of 2020, but the mask that we wear to hide our vulnerabilities and true selves. It’s our vulnerabilities that show our true beauty. We all have emotions, flaws and imperfections, so let’s show each other who we really are. “Hi, I’m Shelli, sometimes I go to bed at 9pm, and sometimes I stay up till midnight binging Netflix, eating dessert and drinking wine.”
It’s time to be love. In his book, “Be Love Now,” Ram Dass explains, “The object of our love is love itself. Love is a state of being.” This was a real game-changer for me. I would much rather spend the rest of my years “being love,” than being apathetic, or worse yet, being hate.
It’s time to let go of the yo-yo of other’s opinions. Up until a few years ago I let myself get all caught up in what other's opinions about me. If it was good, I felt good. If it was bad, I felt bad. This ended up having a yo-yo effect on my mood and self-worth. Once you realize that other's opinions come from their life experience and path they’ve walked, you finally understand that you are the best expert on the subject of “you.”
It’s time to stop wasting time – mindless scrolling and obsessively watching other people live their lives. For some of us, hours can go by once we start. Do I want to watch strangers live their lives, or get off my ass and live mine?
It’s time to “just do it.” Go see everyone, make that call, say, “I love you,” make amends, forgive, apologize, and get over yourself. This is what truly matters – the people, not the things.
It's time to starve the ego and feed the soul. As the decades go by, I’ve learned whatever sets your soul on fire is what matters most. And with 8 billion people on the planet, this could be something different for every one of us. Now, everyone learning to respect that is another story.
It’s time to drive with the windows down! I remember reading one of the great Erma Bombeck’s columns about 20 years ago that mentioned, “Life is too short, drive with the windows down.” Although it stuck with me, I didn’t start doing this until a few years ago. I quickly learned the direct path to “forgetting myself,” is to blast my favorite soulful sounds with the windows down and the wind in my hair. It’s ironic that one day you might set off on a journey to “find yourself,” only to discover later that true contentment and inner peace only comes in forgetting yourself.
It’s time to get moving. If "Father Time" really wants me to be an actuarial statistic, he’s going to have to chase me down like I owe him money. I will keep doing all the fun things – playing with the kiddos, baking cookies, riding my bike, and chasing sunsets. I will feed my wanderlust like it’s a toddler begging for a donut and see all I can before it gets dark. Life is too short, so I choose to seize every damn day - day after day.
Without question, one day I will indeed, be a statistic. But I'm not about the “12% group.” For me, the 1.12% group sounds more appropriate – the percentage of women my age who are expected to live to be 100. And when I do, I will drive with the windows down, with my gray hair blowing in the wind, singing off-key to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin,’” at max volume. So, look out world, this is my fair warning. Because when I am 100, I really shouldn’t be driving at all.
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1
Shelli Netko (c) 2024
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