*sixty*
I celebrated a milestone birthday yesterday.
As I pondered whether to write about this particular birthday, I considered compiling a list of 60 things I love or 60 lessons learned. But these ideas felt daunting and lengthy reading.
I can hear faint whispers of thanks across the airwaves.
I am occasionally reminded of starting a blog the day after my birthday in 2006.
Those days were when our family desktop was anchored in our kitchen nook for some unremembered reason. Over the years, I have written about vivid memories of being bumped in the back of my chair by the refrigerator door.
Writing can be hazardous.
I am amazed by what the online world looked like in the early 2000’s compared to the present.
A Work of Heart, the name of my first blog, with a tagline better left in the dust, no longer exists.
My current website bears my name and contains my current writings.
Most writers and bloggers from those years are grateful to permanently archive those early rambling words. However, I am thankful for the opportunity to practice online writing in all its various shades and dimensions. I found my voice and the core messages of my life by writing long-hand in notebooks and on yellow legal pads and then transporting those scribbles by typing on keys.
The old days were initially entirely innocent fun. We kept blogrolls to point our readers to other blogs they might enjoy, linked posts we liked on our blogs, and even bestowed digital awards.
Online writing friendships developed across the country and even the world.
Over time, blogging became full of hustle and about being seen. The experts had opinions and whoever “they” were shouted to post every day or at least several days each week.
For a rule follower, this was an exhausting pace to adhere to.
Commands don’t often breed creativity.
The next area to arise was related to creating a following.
Network, network, network.
Build a platform that matters and is extensive.
Many blogs began to look different with ads as the word "monetize" became the game's name. Looking back, I always felt a step behind, and as there was already plenty of hustling in my life, I could never keep up.
I also knew the shift didn’t feel or look like me.
My blog and writing life mirrors my actual life. The pulse of turning 60 may be about deepening my life message.
Slow down.
Take your time.
Take breaks (or naps).
Show up according to your unique schedule and bandwidth.
Share when you have something worth sharing.
Allow thoughts to ruminate before unleashing.
Be consistent according to your definition and season.
Make mistakes, learn, and fight the tendency to wallow.
Invest in people, not numbers.
Encourage more than spouting negativity.
Vulnerability creates connection.
One of my core leading principles when writing my first blog was the word “one.”
My deepest hope was that one person would find resonance, feel seen, and feel less alone.
It didn’t require a viral response—just one.
I am forever grateful hundreds of “ones “choose to follow this blog.
But the “one” you is still my primary focus.
Always.
Unabashedly love what you love.
I have written about what I love and perhaps reemphasizes the lack of need to list 60 more.
Writing this piece occurs in my regular spot next to our dining room window.
The weather has turned towards cooler, and our bird feeders have been rarely empty.
I remember hanging the first cage full of suet decades ago and my joy when the first birds discovered its existence.
I recall weeks of non-activity after that, and I released a sigh into the air as I supposed the landings had been a fluke.
Year after year, we put out seed and suet in various parts of our yard.
We added foliage to attract, nourish, and protect birds as well.
Our yard eventually became a bird haven and provided enjoyment for our family and neighbors.
As I drive along our street, bird feeders have begun to dot the front yards of our neighbors’ homes.
Bird love is contagious.
In writing and life, waiting and patience are necessary.
I would love instant results, a harvest without the labor and toil.
The steady discipline of putting out food for the birds has been one of my dearest teachers.
I hope each word I hang upon your screens has been a seed for thought or a breadcrumb leading to hope, courage, or comfort.
What I do know as my path has led to my sixth decade is that life is littered with highs and lows, ebbs and flows, joys and sorrows. This reality has always existed, but it has been a persistent companion for me and many of us in the last few years.
Life, at its core, is continuing to grasp tightly to what is true and witnessing hope erupt in the waiting.
I will close with one of my favorite verses.
It is an indelible reminder of my need to keep walking and writing despite what I see and cannot see.
Thank you for walking with me.
“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart;
yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”
Ecclesiastes 3:11
not my yard, but very much the vibe.
