When considering possible blog post topics to mark my birthday this year, I thought it would be appropriate to impart some wisdom that comes with age, especially since I have now reached 42, which, as Douglas Adams fans know, is the Answer to the Great Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. [1] I am also – not to be morose, but rather to be realistic – statistically past the halfway point of my life. [2] It’s a bit of a wakeup call to think about it that way, because I don’t consider myself particularly old, I certainly still feel unprepared and inexperienced for much of what life throws at me on a regular basis, and I was even carded when buying a bottle of prosecco for my birthday, despite joking with the cashier that I was about to be “twice the drinking age.”
I’ve actually thought a lot about my 21st birthday in the run-up to 42. It is really the last formal and legal milestone into adulthood, and my mom wanted to mark it in a very special way. She told me after the fact that she had run into my 7th grade algebra teacher at the store, and he asked if she was going to take me drinking for my birthday. “No,” she said, “I had something else in mind, and I’d like to talk to you about it.” He responded by asking “You want me to take her drinking?” On the contrary, this “something else” was an absolute labor of love on the part of my mom and her twin sister, who worked for months to create what for 21 years now has been my most prized possession.
Don’t Panic
Five years ago, I was asked to impart wisdom to physics majors at my alma mater on the verge of graduation, and, while admitting that I was daunted by the prospect and doubted that I had the requisite qualifications, I shared what insights I could. [3] Many others did the same when my mom asked them for life advice they would give a freshly minted adult, i.e. me. In fact, I remember not seeing much of my mom in the weeks leading up to my birthday that year because behind the scenes, she was working overtime to assemble a book of wisdom, quotes, and advice to me from people who had known me at different points in my life (and people who had known me for all of it, so far.)
Photo credit: Victoria Leister
In the end, over 70 people contributed to this effort – from English, French, physics, and music teachers; to my parents’ friends who watched me grow up; to mentors of mine, including a martial arts master, a Hindu spiritual leader, and a former governor of New Jersey; to blood and chosen family across states and continents. I read it thoroughly at the time, but very little of the “information” was anything I hadn’t already heard multiple times – it was a wealth of good advice, just not particularly novel. The real meaning in the book was the clear proof that so many people cared about me: I could feel an aura of love emanating from each handwritten or typed page, each with its own unique, colorful border that was sometimes evocative of the person or our relationship (my artist aunt was clearly at work there).
For two decades, I referred to that book as my most prized possession, but I didn’t often refer to it. For much of that time it sat on a bookshelf at my parents’ house, untouched and in a safe place as I moved across the world and then across Pennsylvania. At some point in the last two years, I recovered it while sorting through and packing up my mom’s books (a process that is still very much in progress). I made a mental note to read through it again at 42, figuring that some of the advice would hit differently with age. Much of the advice in the book I knew intellectually to be good advice, but it’s only after living through relevant situations that these words truly make sense in context; it’s only after living a little that I could truly grok some of it. [4] And some of it is resonating particularly strongly here at midlife.
How many roads must a man walk down?
Possibly the most pervasive piece of advice throughout the book came in multiple paraphrases, interpretations, and applications of Willa Cather’s quote “The end is nothing; the road is all.” (She didn’t originate the concept, but hers is a famous encapsulation of it.) I knew the quote, and I knew several people for whom it was a mantra, reminding me throughout my teen years that “it’s about the journey, not the destination.” However, we as humans tend to be very bad at remembering that idea or applying it to our lives. In business school, I specifically learned about techniques that are often used to make people focus on what they are lacking and make them believe that filling that gap will make them happy. That mentality is pervasive in our society, but one quote in my book, heavily paraphrased from noted businessman Malcolm Forbes, reminds us that if you’re not enjoying the journey, you probably won’t enjoy the destination.
Ironically, the university where I was a student when I received this book has one of the world’s most extensive Willa Cather collections, [5] but none of the 15 contributions of advice from Drew University’s faculty or staff mentioned the concept explicitly (not even the one person from the English department!) Perhaps they saw the concept of focusing on the journey instead of the destination as a given. Instead, there were many pieces of advice to take along on my journey in order to make it as fulfilling as possible, with similar strong themes coming through across all of the other entries…
You’re the Expert on You
The Chief of public safety at Drew, who knew me very well from my various exploits with the school’s medieval reenactment group and ghosthunting efforts in some of the campus’ most-haunted locations, shared that once he thought he had all the answers but then came to realize that he didn’t even know what the questions were. Many other entries complemented this idea, noting my curiosity and enthusiasm for diving into the exploration of any new topic. While there are many experts on many different topics, many of these entries encouraged me to beware of accepting anything at face value and living according to other people’s expectations; to continue asking questions so I can continue to grow in ways that are meaningful to me – intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually; to listen to others’ advice but to be careful what advice I follow, because only I can determine my own truths and figure out the puzzle that is Alison.
Be Present and Enjoy the Moment
Several entries reminded me that mistakes are valuable for the lessons they impart, but one of my parents’ friends specifically advised that I not try to avoid making them. As horrifying a concept as that is, it is a valuable effort for someone who suffers from analysis paralysis, who needs to make the “correct” choice in all situations in order to minimize negative impacts (to myself and others). But it’s true that dwelling too much on past or future mistakes and their repercussions robs us of the only time we truly have, which is now. I recently posted a silly selfie on social media to prove that I wasn’t taking myself too seriously (but I selected the “best” one from multiple takes), so it’s clear that I still have a long way to go in being able to laugh at myself. The realization that I’m now halfway through my time on this planet if I’m lucky is as good a reminder as any that I need to spend more time living in the moment. Indeed, my tuba teacher advised that I “take care of the minutes, for the hours will take care of themselves.”
Stay Connected with Others
The book opened with a few quotes – the first one was from American writer and conservationist T.A. Barron: “Heaven is any place where people who love each other have shared some time together.” One of the most consistent pieces of advice across the board was to maintain connections with family, friends, and neighbors; to love, give, and serve generously; to tell and show people how you feel about them – and to do that often. The other important relationship mentioned often was the one with God – not necessarily the Christian god, though that was sometimes implied (especially by people who knew me from church), but that having some kind of spiritual practice is important. I have found deep spiritual connection to something greater than myself in moments of quiet, especially in nature – and that feeling is comforting. But when it comes to people, I’m particularly bad about actually maintaining contact with other humans.
42
This birthday was shaping up to be a lonely one. I still miss my mom’s real-time play-by-play account of the horrific labor and joyful birth, which I used to get every year; it would be my first birthday without my sweet soul mate of a kitty since he came into my life in 2013; and Christian would be out of town for a car event. Since I would have some quiet time, I bought myself a bottle of prosecco, baked my traditional birthday cake, and sat down with my birthday book, bracing myself as I expected to feel even more isolated, thinking about all the people I don’t or can’t see anymore. On the contrary, I felt far more joy than sorrow while paging through this treasure trove of wisdom. I cried at beautiful words from people who are no longer in this world, and I texted pictures of pages to some of the people who had contributed them. As if it was planned, the book brought me back into conversations with people I love and miss, rather than making me feel alone. This year, the book was not the gift; the connections were.
As I expected, the content resonated with me more now than it did 21 years ago. But it was fascinating to tease out some of the themes that emerged: not living my life to other people’s standards, taking time to be playful and enjoy myself, and making sure that I nurture my connections with others… ultimately reminding me that the road itself is life and to be present for the journey. (As the Bene Gesserit say, “any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere.” [6]) It feels so surprising and appropriate that the advice I received at 21 is so closely tied to things I’m regularly struggling with at 42, things that are perhaps what I’m on this planet to learn. I wonder if that is because the advice was so perfectly crafted for me or because these struggles are so universal. I’d be curious to hear what you think and if anything resonates with you.
Thank you for reading. (And thank you, Mom, for the greatest gift.)
[1] https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11.The_Hitchhiker_s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy
[3] https://radicalmoderate.online/c-students-run-the-world-part-1/
[4] https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/grok
[5] https://drew.edu/library/2019/06/28/the-willa-cather-collection/
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