43.
It snuck up on me.
Not really, but it really did.
42.
42.
42.
42. It was a quiet number. It was a low-key number, considering the world and the circumstances.
Quiet.
Chill.
Low-Key.
Locked-Down in the pandemic. It was another number.
Here I am another year older, another year wiser.
I really don’t know what I’m going to write today or in these next few days, but I’ll manage something.
43.
I’m fucking 43. Another year closer and another number closer.
For this year’s #specialweek I decided to go to Hawaii, but that’ll be another post as I’m trying to get my thoughts together for this year reflection.
Where to start? Where to go?
Who knows?
42.
It was a trying year. It was a trying number.
I think it was trying because of the circumstance of the world and my life in general.
We were still in lock-down so there really wasn’t much going on.
The only interesting thing that happened in my life was getting Galette.
She came into my life pretty quickly and being with Pickles for so long, it took me a long time to adjust to having and owning such a young dog again.
Patience.
I know it is my hamartia, but man, it keeps coming back. With Galette, it was no different.
I had to relearn a whole new language again, but thankfully I had some experience and can figure out some of the syntax.
42.
Patience.
It took me about a year before getting to understand Galette and what makes her tick. We still don’t see eye to eye on some things, but we’ll make it work.
42.
Adulting.
It started near the tail end of my last number, but last year my health became really important. I started to worry about my health and how my body is.
I had that heart scare last year, finding out I have irregular heartbeats. My cholesterol is high. I’m prediabetic.
My health definitely isn’t where it could be.
Adulting.
Being more responsible about my health.
My pee problem. Smelly and don’t know why.
Seems to happen when I have too much Starbucks and my Venti Americano with extra shot.
It’ll go weeks and then out of the blue eventually the smell will go away.
Health.
I haven’t been to the doctor so much in my whole 42 years than I did last year. So many doctor visits.
Maybe I’m worried about the future and whether I’ll be in it. Maybe I’m looking forward to my future and what I’ll become.
Who knows?
But definitely realizing my mortality in the world.
42.
I’ve never really been the type that worried about my health and my mortality before.
I’d always thought I’d die young or die at the proper age. I don’t care that I live until I’m really old or not, but suddenly, I’m really worried about my mortality.
Maybe I’m getting closer to the age when my father passed away and it’s creeping in my mind to live and surpass him.
I don’t know.
Maybe I’m holding things back and after 45 is when my life really starts.
My dad was my life for a while and he’s constantly on my mind. I’ve worked through my issues for the most part, but some is still there.
It got easier.
42.
Maybe with the pandemic, I realize life is fleeting and life is worth living.
Being unable to do so many things that I was able to do so freely before, I realize life is good. Living live is great, experiencing life is worth it.
Make sure that I live long enough and am healthy enough to see and experience every single piece of it.
42.
My mortality.
It’s real. Protect it.
43.
43.
It really struck me how important or how safe I’ve been playing things lately during my first hike of being 43.
While doing the Wiliwilinui Ridge Trail on the morning of turning 43, I did something that I don’t do often. I didn’t finish the trail even though I was literally a few hundred steps away.
The views were amazing and overall, the hike isn’t strenuous or hard.
What was hard was the trail condition. It was wet. Slippery. Clay caking on your shoes.
The last few steps were literal steps going up to the top. I did not do it.
I stopped at the break before the final up. It was probably a quarter of a mile up, a few hundred steps.
I did the adult thing and decided not to finish.
I got my views. I got my peace.
I didn’t want to risk it, even though there were a few people who were making their way up to the top.
I’m sure if I took my damn time, I could have made it, but I played it safe. I didn’t want to risk it since it was only me. Everyone else was hiking in pairs or more up to the top.
The steps were in bad shape. Puddles. Wet. Slippery.
Heading back down, backtracking the steps that I’ve already painstakingly went up, I took my time.
I slipped a few times even with me being careful.
I can’t imagine me being alone and trying to get down from the top and slipping and falling. What will happen?
It’s a popular hike. People will find me. I’m sure of it, but was that enough for me to risk it?
My mortality.
It is real.
I thought there will always be another time if I turn back. I can always redo it again whenever I come back.
But there will never be another time if I do go and fuck up.
Fear.
Sometimes fear is good.
42.
Playing things safer.
42.
Embracing my mortality.
42.
42.
Growth.
Realizing your limits.
I’m not young anymore.
I have responsibilities.
I have lives that rely on me.
Be smart.
Be smart.
42.
42.
It’s been a low-key number in a mind-fucking horrible year.
It was definitely a test of me mentally and physically.
42.
I’m old.
43.
I don’t think it’ll be any different from here on out.
It’ll be a progression from here on out.
43.
A new number.
Another year older, another year wiser.
43.
Bring it.