With enough reasons, I can do anything. Case in point: it is my 43rd birthday, and when I woke up at 6 a.m., the thought of the day ahead sparked some motivation. A well-wish text from my dad—currently cruising to Norway—and a Facebook birthday post from my mom’s best friend, Laurie, added to the warmth of the morning. Instead of groaning at the thought of getting up and burying my head back into the pillow, I thought about the strength I’d been building in my body and my desire to keep going. I decided to make this my best year yet.
For those reasons, I quietly gathered my headphones, laptop, and water and slipped into the next room. The office, peaceful and ready with its full-sized mirror and soft glow of fairy lights, felt like a haven. I unfurled my yoga mat, paired my headphones, and turned on a video by my favorite, kind-hearted YouTube teacher, Adriene, for a 25-minute practice.
This session focused on strength—planks, transitions from floor to standing, and controlled movements that pushed my endurance. I was used to slower-paced, stretch-focused practices, but this was exactly what I needed. I needed to feel my muscles shaking, to drop to a knee for short breaks, and to challenge myself. As I moved, I thought about where I was a year ago and realized how far I’ve come—fitter, stronger, and more prepared to face hard things.
Did you know the garbage truck comes by at 6:20 a.m.? I didn’t either.
Later, I took full advantage of Starbucks and Nothing Bundt Cakes for their birthday freebies. Normally, a venti drink with extra shots, syrup, and foam would’ve cost eleven dollars—an indulgence I would never allow myself. But today, it was guilt-free. Also, I didn’t feel like I was taking advantage of the world’s largest coffee company, I’d spent more on my daily spicy strawberry lemonades there during my six-block work breaks early last year.
Forty-three. Why does this birthday stir thoughts of mortality—both mine and others’? I imagine the end of my life as a distant horizon, with me standing now at its dawn and the sunset still decades away. But who am I to predict? If life were truly down to its final sips, I’d probably feel like I’d been thrown onto a treadmill at full speed—unsteady, unprepared, and utterly overwhelmed.
I’ll let that thought drift away, like a helium balloon released into the sky. Sure, I fleetingly acknowledge that the metaphorical balloon might someday land in the ocean and harm a dolphin, but today isn’t the day to dwell on ripple effects.
This season of my life is for achieving goals, savoring slow, ambling days, and watching my daughter grow. It’s about settling in—like a snowdrift on the side of the road, light, fluffy, and gracefully shaped by the wind.
It’s a time for deep embraces, lingering in the sweetness of the moment, allowing my heart to swell with gratitude for the faces I love, the spaces I’ve curated and continue to refine, and the quiet simplicity of it all. If this is all there is, anything that follows—any future pain—would be a debt I’m willing to pay.
But, if all goes well, the credit I’m building will carry me well into the many more years to come.
Love, Jaclynn
PS Now onto my final act on my birthday – snuggle in bed with Dave while watching Zoolander.
Going On 40 