Generally when people say they can't wait until Friday or until summer or until their vacation or Christmas, my thought is, "Oh, don't wish your life away."
I like the idea of a day at a time. I really do. Not to say I don't plan, but I tend to live this day, this here and now.
However, I must confess that lately I've been in a bit of a rush to turn the calendar page on 2012. Ta ta. Au revoir. I'm way over it. Don't let the door hit you in the derriere on your way out.
When I turned 50 last December, I was braced for a rompin' ride of fun and adventure in 2012. Exploration. Devil may care. Either come along for the ride or get out of my way. That was my exuberant attitude.
What ensued was, in roughly this order -- knee injury, death, death, death, knee surgery, death, a nice summer, death, death, Hurricane Sandy. The knee is healing, those who passed on included a man I loved deeply, two beloved aunts and some people who impacted my life in a profound way, and the storm's effects are still rippling.
While I have been counting my blessings through much of this -- and there are many -- I will be happy to raise a glass to 2013 in a way I've never felt before. I'm ready for fresh.
But first, a question to ponder -- what am I taking into next year?
Well, I'm more sure of some things. I love deeply. I create passionately. I inspire most when I don't set out to. I teach by virtue of how I live and see the world. My body is something to marvel at and not scrutinize. Maturity sounds boring but it is actually very sexy. And my soul has grown by leaps and bounds.
These kinds of revelations pop in the simplest moments. Recently someone said I've had a good attitude through all the circumstances surrounding the storm and it made me smile. The person who said it couldn't have known that I would have been a petulant, angry fool if all this had gone down, say, 15 years ago. I have done a great deal of work to get to the point where I take a lot in stride, don't get bogged down in drama, and eventually find meaning in most life events.
Did I want many of the events of this year to happen? Heck no. But did I get something valuable from the lives of people who passed? You bet I did. From Hurricane Sandy? Oh yeah. From the wobbly knee? Unquestionably.
Does some of it still make me weep, get frustrated, want to throw a tantrum? Absolutely.
But still I learn. Years and years of reading, opening, breaking down old patterns and not glazing over my feelings -- this is where it's all led. Living.
There is maturity in relishing a compliment and in being able to handle -- at least most of the time -- deeper engagement. When a reader and I had a thoughtful email exchange that led to him suggesting God wants a relationship with me, what kept going through my mind was, "What a fascinating assumption that I don't already have that relationship." My past self -- shall we say, a more hair-trigger or haughty one -- would have gone on a tirade of "how dare you suggest" instead of considering what he said and what it means to both of us.
Our ideas of a relationship with the divine are different. So what. It's OK. In fact, it's more than OK. We'd established such a nice rapport and so much common ground already that the discussion had enough mutual respect to withstand an observation he meant to be meaningful.
What will 2013 be?
Well, obviously I can't know what will happen. But what I already sense is that if 2012 is about getting and finetuning some lofty messages, then next year is about sharing them in a more widespread way. I feel my own beauty now, the kind that is cultivated from within. I am aware of my depth and capacity to go deeper. I embrace my imperfection. There is much to be exuberant about.
This first 50-something year, I feel its magic in ways I couldn't have imagined. Remarkable to see oneself reacting to life events in a way that far exceeds your own expectations. Sidestepping drama. Grieving but not wallowing. Pushing through impatience when physical limitations slow you down. Finding energy to reach out to help someone else when you are desperately in need of a hand yourself.
I so appreciate this time of life. I do.
But that doesn't mean I'm not counting down the days until I can bid adieu to this godforsaken year.
Nancy Colasurdo is a practicing life coach and freelance writer. Her Web site is www.nancola.com and you can follow her on Twitter @nancola. Please direct all questions/comments to FOXGamePlan@gmail.com.