I turned 47 on Sunday, February 23rd—celebrating in bed with a sinus infection. My body ached, I had chills, and I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. What a way to ring in another year of life.
But, just two days before, I was in the Dominican Republic, basking in the sun, feeling well, and living fully. That was my gift. I’ll take it.
Being stuck in bed gave me a lot of time to think—to reflect on my time on this earth. And every year, the same thoughts come to mind:
Life is so damn short.
I feel both ridiculously young and like I’m getting old at the same time.
Midlife is a mind-fuck.
It’s like—oh my god, my life is more than halfway over if I’m lucky enough to live to 90. And how many people actually make it to 90? That’s some pressure. Have I done enough? What will the rest of my life look like? Am I happy?
Is anyone happy?
That’s the big one for me. We’ve all been fed this fantasy that we should be striving for happiness. But in a world that holds so much sadness, that can feel impossible. I touched on this in my last post, but now I want to dig into the idea of happiness itself.
Maybe happiness is just code for doing okay. And maybe okay is good enough—dare I say, great.
Because if there’s one thing being sick reminds me of, it’s how little I appreciate not being sick. Ever take a moment to just be in your body when you feel well? To appreciate the absence of pain, aches, or discomfort? Illness always makes me hyper-aware of the opposite, and honestly, I think that’s kind of beautiful.
In fact, sometimes I wonder if things like colds, the flu, or mild viruses are our body’s way of forcing us to slow down, reset, and—once healed—appreciate the gift of health.
So, take a moment. How does your body feel right now? Are you one of the lucky ones who gets to be free today? How special is a day without pain?
And if you are feeling something, can you give yourself the gift of doing at least one thing today that brings relief?
Today, I’m feeling better. I’m relishing in a healed body. I’m grateful for these 47 years of life and all the future ones I get to live. I am happy. This is my version of happiness.
I hope you’re happy too—whatever that means for you today.