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PART II OF II

So what is turning 40 all about? Is there a deeper meaning?

Part of the answer seems to be that life is a journey, a dance, a poem, a song of living in the midst of a paradox I cannot and will never resolve and being okay with that fact. I see reaching 40 as an embrace of my own mortality and imperfection and the sobering realization that there are some things that I will never ever do. It is to take hold of my flaws and failures and give the same grace to others.

Turning 40 is about collaboration and teamwork and success defined less in terms of material gain for me, and more about how can I work to use my access and privilege and education to make space for others to have more.

Turning 40 is about embracing obstacles and challenges and shouting "I'm still here!" It's the epiphany that I did not spontaneously combust in the face of the many economic and emotional and physical traumas life threw at me, although I do have the economic and emotional and physical scars to prove it.

There are many thoughts rolling around in the cobwebs of my now 40-year-old brain. I've heard all the phrases people say to make themselves and others feel better about reaching this place. I hear euphemisms like; "It's only a number," or "Forty is the new thirty" or even "You're only as old as you feel."

I know that I can scoff at these people who may be trying to cheer me up or I can cuddle the reality that I am in the 40-club.

My thirties are gone forever and yet there is no black cloud looming overhead and I do not want to duck for cover. Many of my dreams have died but I have had many serendipitous moments that have nourished me and sent me in new directions full of fresh possibility. I can claim no credit for that although I am glad for the benefits. And while not everything that I wanted for myself has happened and some things will never happen, there is comfort in knowing that I am not alone in this.

I am in new phase of my life and there are millions of people around the world who have been there and are there today. But I can still dream. I can still plan and set goals for the future. My wife Leondra continues to enjoy her work as she participates in the education of the next generation. Our three children are quite independent. They have rightly refused to be clay in my hands. They defiantly and intentionally resist my efforts to remake them in my image. At 40 I can know see the wisdom of their disobedience and I work harder to pool resources with them.

Our son Terin is now 17. He will finish high school next year. Our "Mandela Twins," Zindzi and Zenani are 15 and 13 respectively and they are doing their thing and doing it well, with greater self-sufficiency each day. My Bajan mother is as feisty and frenetic and funny as she wants to be.

I WAS CONFUSED AND TIRED

She loves her golden years of retirement. And she continues to smile. (http://inphotos.org/40th-birthday-party/). I like myself better now at 40, than at any other time in my life. I was temperamental and territorial in my teens and lost and listless in my 20s. I was remorseful and repentant and confused and tired and overwhelmed in my 30s. But at 40, I see being alive as a miracle that I have taken for granted for 39 years.

Today I set limits. I now ask how much is enough? How much work, play and rest do I need? I am now concerned with legacy and meaning and fulfilment, but not just for me. I want these things for everybody. So my life looking forward, if I can muster the chutzpah to declare this aspiration in writing, is that I will live a more measured, less chaotic life. Some money is good, but I will not kill myself in the pursuit of a bigger bank balance. More time with family and friends and working for causes that bring greater justice and peace and liberty to the world is now my vocation.

As I navigate the estuaries towards the afternoon of my life, I take more care with my emotional ballast as I sail. I have jettisoned the constant striving, grabbing, competing, running, and achieving, that festooned the morning of my existence. Those things increased my tendency to heel when the stormy winds started blowing.

Instead, I have reached the high noon of 40 and I accept it with grace by being selective about the ballast as I sail these new waters. It is the golden thread that runs through the textual fabric of my life. Forty is not the new 30. Forty is forty and forty is truly fabulous! Amen.

BERMUDIAN JOHN-ANTHONY BURCHALL is M.Div Chaplain Resident in the Department of Mission and Pastoral Care at Georgetown University Hospital in Washington, DC. Part I of this article ran in the Bermuda Sun on December 2.[[In-content Ad]]

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