My Mission

I have decided to take you on a ride. As I spend the last year of my 30s, I will take you with me. That’s right. This year, I am 39. 3---9. Hard for me to say it without choking up. I hate admitting it, and I’d rather not think about it. But hey, isn’t it the new 29? Yeah right.

Mortified and in deep denial, I realized the best way for me to deal with this crisis is to face it head on. That if I were to grow older gracefully like many of the classy ladies I so admire (Lauren Hutton, Diane Lane, Diane Keaton), I better accept it. And I better hustle.

So I want to relish my 39th year by celebrating it as best as I could every day. I want to make each day purpose-driven. Of course deep down I will be horrified, fearful and depressed from time to time, but I really do want my 39th year to matter. Really matter. I am not discounting that I did manage to improve the last 2 decades. But somehow there was no urgency. I guess the saying, "Youth is wasted on the young" finally makes sense to me. I always thought I'd be that cool older lady...the one that doesn't sweat her age. But now that the big 4-0 is around the corner, I do feel some dampness on my forehead. WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING THE PAST 39 years?!!

Major or minor changes, they are all stuff that I’ve been carrying around with me for a long time. I just don't want that weight on me anymore. Because it's not about growing up and becoming oh so mature for me. What it is, is "me" growing better.

So at least every week, I will candidly share with you my adventures in attempting to become a better version of me. And as my birthday is November 5, I only have 9 months and 4 days left. By the time I am blowing 40 candles, I sure hope that aside from the fire extinguisher, I carry with me that confidence that I am yet to reach my prime.

Wish me luck.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Walking with Mischief in My Eyes

(5 months, 17 days)

I've been missing the walks I used to take everyday in New York City.
In the suburbs of LA, unless I make a conscious effort to park far from a store entrance or take my lunch time walks, there isn't really much opportunity to let my mind wander anymore. As a result, I feel heavier in mind, body, and soul.

In a sense, I have lost my strut.
...that fabulous swagger that New Yorkers are proud of.
...that necessary quick footing that kept me quick-witted and fit.
...that confident stride that attacked life.

Photobucket

I will resume walking in the mornings and getting connected to myself again.

A lot of fresh air and people watching can only do me good. Besides, in the great Metropolis of Whittier, I am in no real danger of walking in and out of boutiques with great finds. At best, I would walk away having found myself.
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