I don't usually have profound thoughts on a birthday, but this one is different. I'm 46 today. No one tells you about the sixes: at 36, I had the distinct sense that no bones about it, I'm not a kid anymore. Even at 35, you can still get away with young person's thoughts, actions, antics. But 36: the expiration date has passed on youth, for sure. I turned 40 a few years later and it was no big deal. But 46: again, another feeling. Life is most undoubtedly over half over. The shadow cast backwards becomes less interesting than what is coming...and what the f is it, anyway? People in this age are invisible in the flashy-pants world of advertising, movies and gossip. We apparently move in an uninteresting and uglier way to the world at large. There is a great anonymous space for discovery here, I know, but as a person who likes to be in the limelight...it's sobering, too.
It's been a long time since I actively mourned whatever beauty I had (that funeral was way too long); it's a big relief when health overtakes vanity. My children are in that flush of loveliness now, and it's so fun to watch them grow. I'm glad to be an older parent. I'm a better parent because I'm older: I know that.
Besides a trailer jack and a pair of Red Wing boots, I don't have any birthday desires. I am 46 and I rent from my mom, but I have almost every other thing I could possibly want. For 46, I've done well, and I'm glad I'm not dead.
There is a line in the Tao Te Ching, a fundamental text for me, that says something like: "When filling the glass, stop short of the rim: do not overfill." Until middle age, this seemed like a classic cop-out. Why wouldn't you shoot for the moon in all of your endeavors? For women, overdoing it is often the only way possible to success on a par with men: you have to be 150% better. I've seen this in my own job: I worked harder than almost anyone just to be noticed, got my rewards, then watched again and again as men who were either deadbeats or nuts skated right by, and sometimes way past me. Gross. Outrageous. Whatever. At any rate, the adage didn't seem to apply to my life. Here's the thing, though. It's really coming in handy now, because for the last few months, I've been standing on the edge of a choice: staying a professor or moving into university administration. Could you imagine suddenly making not twice, but three times your salary? Going to the same job? Seeing a lot of the same people? Three of my colleagues/friends in the past year have done this..like someone put fertilizer on their careers and they just shot up. Our campus is changing quickly, growing, and eyes are looking around for people to lead. And I just happen to be a leader.
I never knew this. Again, these aren't words usually spoken preemptively to women. Today, though, it's a different world, and I'm a different person. I've taken certain leadership opportunities and done mostly well with them. Actually, I've used leadership as a way to not do other things that are in the long run, scarier: write creatively, teach better, hold my head high in spite of not being paid very much.... I guess you can say that I've distracted my way into becoming a somewhat important person in my job. Hence the crossroads. I can see the signs ahead: you are about to become officially awesome in the eyes of a lot of people who never noticed you before. The pull is kind of trashy and sexy, like People magazine, like Taco Bell (yum).
I guess I'm kind of an asshole myself, because the job does suit me, just like brassy language and cliches. OCD helps, too. I could do it really well: this is not the issue (yay confidence!)
There is a sense that the more one does, the better. Overfill the glass. Cut the fucking trees. Don't look back. Do it or someone else will. Seize the day. Manifest destiny. Banzai. Kowabunga. Welcome to the Real World. Be the one percent.
Ok, I'm getting ahead of myself, here, but honestly. If you're going to go for it, then why not fucking go for it? Why not be the president?
There is a line you cross when you are standing where I'm standing that is probably more significant than any jump from dean to provost to president, etc. Cynical faculty call it going to the Dark Side. I've seen enough of the university administrative world to know that it isn't all dark, but unfortunately, the shoe does fit most of the time. Nothing is free. Vocation becomes rat race, and you find yourself worrying about things that have little to do with the Life of the Mind. And at times, you have to be a dick in an official capacity!
Back to the Tao Te Ching. If I stop short here in my career, at 46, will I regret it? You only get a few of these opportunities, lucky lucky child. Last week I was ready to get on the next imperial transport, and spend my future fortune. Then, one day I was driving home, having bitten my nails down and worrying about something someone said about my PowerPoint, and wondering if I could actually swing a 160-mile round trip commute every day, and I just went: NO. No, you fucking idiot. You didn't spend 45 years learning to appreciate your weirdness and becoming a martial artist in the classroom and doing it the hard way, sneakily, under the radar. You didn't figure out that doing good in the world was the best way to nurture your own soul, and that students and colleagues regularly feed you in ways that money never will...you are a freaking socialist anyway! You have earned the right to laugh at whatever you see as funny because it costs you nothing. You can continue to thrive on the scraps of thrown away things/people/ideas and get PAID TO READ BOOKS. Stop here! You won't become deadwood, but even if you do, who cares?
Happy birthday, dear Jedi. ;)
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