Birthday Post
Sometimes you get so caught up in the future that you fail to realize you’ve already accomplished some of your dreams.
As I get older and the calendar quietly adds another year to my tally I find myself quantifying life a little more. Ok, maybe a lot more.
Who would’ve thought I’d photograph a runway show? Or Vampire Weekend? Or an Army football game? Create personal projects out of thin air that I’m remarkably proud of?
Who could’ve imagined I’d record over 150 episodes of my podcast?
I’ve learned a lot in my 40 years, and I’ll share some of it here. But before I do, let me say this: don’t wait for a birthday—or a loss for that matter—to appreciate the people and experiences in your life. Birthdays make reflection easy, but my hope heading into year 40 is to do this more often, without needing a reason.
Forty years is a long time. And somehow, it feels like nothing at all. There’s that duality of life thing again.
Every day is a steppingstone toward an inevitable finish—and one I find myself no longer fearing. There’s something strange and freeing that happens with time: the more of it you put behind you, the less you worry about what’s ahead. (sometimes)
There’s a calculable number of days to my life, I can count them:
14,611
A number. Big? Kind of. Small? Maybe?
Inside those days exist countless moments I’m only now learning how to recognize and process. How many times have I laughed until it hurt? Cried until it was over? Tried and failed—and tried again? Too many to count. But those experiences have left behind a few truths worth sharing.
Tell people you love them. Often. Always.
Take chances. Don’t live afraid of risk.
We have one real enemy in this world—and it’s time, not each other.
There’s a quiet beauty in arriving at a point in life and realizing you’re finally prepared. And at 40, today—through every high and low—I’m ready for whatever comes next. That’s a foreign feeling for someone who spent the last decade trying to figure it all out. But standing here now, I get it. I understand what life is about.
It’s about people.
It’s about chasing dreams.
It’s about winning big or winning small.
And being ok when you lose as it is inevitable.
I only wish I could bottle this confidence—this comfort in my own skin—and save it for the days when I forget what this feels like. I wish that this feeling of safety I have built inside of myself could be something I teach and impart to others. But alas I feel you can only arrive at this junction via time. It cannot be taught.
So here’s to year forty—not as a finish line, but much more like a new beginning. I’m not chasing certainty anymore. I’m chasing presence. Showing up. Paying attention. Loving deeply. Taking the shot even when the outcome isn’t guaranteed.
If the next chapter teaches me anything, I hope it’s this: that a life well lived isn’t measured in years or achievements or a house full of stuff, but in how fully you were there while it was happening.