Turning 50 . . . . part II (the happy part)

Approaching San Francisco . . . .

I've finally had some sleep, and we are approaching San Francisco, so my mood has lifted considerably. Time for fun!! Let me begin by saying that were it not for this four day escape, I might have had that breakdown I've been on the verge of for a few years. Whew!!

My friend Kenny, whose birthday we were all gathering to celebrate, is just a wonderful person. I felt honored to have been invited along on this trip, and to be included with his family and other friends who played a part in his life. Seriously! Kenny and I went to high school together in New Orleans, and were friends then, but have become much greater friends through more recent years. He's got a generous and happy heart, and likes to share that. I was traveling with my own emotional baggage I was trying to lose in transit, but Kenny had his to, due to recent breakup with his partner of the last decade. I believe he and I were really ready to change the course of things for ourselves. We were at 50, new decade, new start, all that good stuff. Out with the old, in with the new and improved. This was it!

As it turns out, with this group of family and friends, we could have been in Fargo, North Dakota, and would have had a blast! (No offense intended, Fargo.) I jumped into a group which varied in size at different times from 12-18, and felt like I had known them forever. I was back in my New Orleans element, and it was relaxed, fun, and just plain good. There is an attitude of N.O. people you just don't get anywhere else. I miss it, and so badly needed it! I don't remember the last time I laughed as much. Every experience, riding the ferry, a catamaran sail at sunset, running through Muir Woods because we were out of time, sitting on the shuttle bus, eating spoonfuls of garlic sauce at The Stinking Rose, touring vineyards, the party bus while touring vineyards, the birthday dinner at the winery of one of Kenny's old friends, the way we all just gelled together as if we did this all the time . . . the wine, champagne, more wine, and yet more wine . . . . it was simply perfect. Although my own selfish desire to escape and be happy was ever present, I so badly wanted my friend to see how much he was loved and cherished by so many, and remind him that endings only bring new beginnings. Start anew, and create exactly what we want for ourselves. I want my dear friend to have all that he wants in this life, which only he completely knows.

I recently had a conversation with someone in a rather unhappy place in life, and asked, "what do you want from this life?" It's a big question, but the most important one ever. What is the first thing, maybe even one word, that comes to mind when asked what it is you want from this life? As a big question, you may think that a simple answer is too, well, simple or general, but it's really not. The answer is the big picture you want. The details are in how you achieve it, how you work toward it, and how you appreciate the bumps along the way. There are always bumps.

Over the course of the 4 days in SF, I began to ponder the question again myself. I was also reminded of what the answer to the question was for me. My answer, the big picture one, is two-fold: love and happiness. Of course we all want love, but that's not what I'm talking about. I know I am loved by my family and friends. It is what carries me, comforts me, warms my heart. The love I'm talking about though is the kind that warms my soul. My soul is weary, it has been battered, and it is time to heal. There was once someone who told me repeatedly that I was unlovable. I knew he was wrong, and not just wrong, but stupid. However, sometimes those dagger words pierce the skin, enter the soul, and allow some of it to escape. Other injuries and scars are made by more harsh words, betrayal, and dishonesty. Eventually, the scar tissue blocks out those soul rays, and the light begins to fade. My light will fade no more. It is already warming up, and I am confident that it will once again be a full glow. The pilot light is lit. So that's the first part. The second part is happiness.

The happiness I want from this life has never been completely absent, even in the darkest times, but I want more of it. I want to be greedy for it, hog it for myself, and wallow in it. I'm not talking about just having a good day. I want laughter, lots of laughter! On this trip to SF, I was reminded of how much I love to laugh. I love it! I like being silly. I like being inappropriate. I like being surrounded by people who joke and play, and who love to share it. I find so much of that in my connection to New Orleans, but I want it everywhere I am. I may very well end up back there some day, but I have no intention of waiting until and if that time comes. I have troubles in my heart, things I can't fix, but I refuse, even more staunchly to let that win out. I have described our group that weekend as not being a quiet and subtle group. Thank goodness! We carried with us an overflow of happiness, joy, and fun, and others around couldn't help but join in. The crew of the catamaran was laughing, smiling, and having fun as they watched us revel in the mere fact that we were all there together and happy. At the Russian River Vineyards a few of the group spontaneously began a rendition of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day," which was followed by the Who Dat chant. Others at the vineyard came to see what was going on and couldn't help but feel our joy. The young man who led our wine tasting said, "I have no idea what just happened here, but that was freakin' AWESOME! I wish we had more people like you all come through here." That joy, that happiness, I want more. I don't want to feel inhibited about it. I don't care what anyone thinks if I choose to be silly and make a joyful fool of myself. I just want more of it. More!

No matter what happened before I left for SF, by the time I came back four days later, I had regained focus of my "what do I want out of this life" question. Intuitively, I know that I have turned a corner, not just chronologically, but psychologically. I pray that my friend Kenny feels himself turning that corner too.  I thought turning 40 was going to open my life up again, but I was a bit premature. Fifty is the start of the new. Let's do this thing!