Happy Birthday to Me

A winding essay on turning 53 and taking stock of one's life

At a book signing event, with my friend Robin being given the red carpet treatment by Delta Airlines, and speaking at a conference

I’m tired. Exhausted, more like. It’s been a busy few weeks. Months. And June is no better.

Last week, I started a class (as a participant) on The Passionate Essay through Moniack Mhor. I love being a student, especially since I teach so much. I want to learn all my life, keep learning, keep growing, keep gaining skills and fine-tuning, perfecting my writing. So I signed up. And the instructor started by saying this: “I have a new baby and this class is all I am focusing on in June.”

I wrote: What would it be like to have only one thing to focus on?

My grandmother used to say, “You do too much.” I’d wave her away and say, “Oh Grandma!” and pretend like there wasn’t truth in her words.

Tomorrow is my birthday. I’ll be 53. That’s a big number. A number I can’t fathom, let alone feel. My soul hovers around 30, and my body plays tennis like I’m 25, but then at night I feel the muscles pulling and the aches from running hard to get the ball in the far corner of the court.

With Shaya at prom, with Asher at his graduation, with my brother and sister at Asher's college graduation

A week from today, master swim begins. That’s four mornings a week at six a.m. swimming in a lane with five others and a coach telling us what to do and how hard. I did this for years before the pandemic and loved the quiet walk in the dawn half a mile to the pool and the way the night air lifted in mist off the surface of the water. It was cold going in but lovely and I warmed up quickly paddling my arms along the lane.

The past two summers, I’ve spent a month away and so didn’t do master swim. But now I’m here and I’m back and I wonder what it will be like. Sometimes you can’t go back. Sometimes you just need to keep going forward. But I think it’s best to combine the best of the past with hope for the future.

After The Passionate Essay class, I am signed up for Writing a Novel with Meaning. A summer full of focusing on my craft, my words. I’ve always pondered the meaning of it all. My husband smiles when I ask why we do certain things, why humans are the way we are, or when I wonder at the absurdity of the moving vehicle—“We’re in a little metal box on wheels—it’s surreal.” I sound crazy, I know. My kids laugh when I say this, but really, isn’t it a marvel that we’ve created a technology that can move us at 80 mph across the sheer landscape of a continent?

Although I think we’re missing something when we go at top speed. The journey is no longer the destination; we are only trained on the getting-there.

Which is an interesting metaphor for an author career.

(from left) On my birthday, sharing photos of some of my favorite people, and memories: at camp as a kid; with my writing-friend Carrie; with Dan, my love, with almost all the kids and Dan, with Grace and Dan, on the boat from Nova Scotia last summer with Alyssa and Laura, with my three kiddos 13 years ago, with my best friend Katie, with my Auntie Suz

As a writing instructor, I talk a lot about noticing. Observing. Giving yourself the luxury of time and space and the natural world to take stock, find purpose, live with meaning. I think I am missing the adventure of a month away this year if only because when I am in a new place, I can leave everything behind and just notice. Just be. Just write. Just be me in my very best way.

On the verge of 53, I am assessing. Feeling satisfied. I wanted to focus on writing novels so I made it happen. Pivoted my career to spend the first and best part of each day writing. Book after book after book, one a year. I’m there. I did it. I’m in the journey, and the journey is endless.

And, wherever I go, I find the writers and I find the Jews. My people. I love to listen. To get to know others, to learn what excites them, where their passions ignite. This world is big and mine for the having. Yours, too. So…what do you want?

Thanks for reading Lynne Golodner’s Rebel Author Newsletter, a weekly missive on writing and publishing. If you like what you read, please consider becoming a paid subscriber to support a writer’s craft and qualify for monthly book giveaways. This month’s giveaway will be two books—Colm Toibin’s The Heather Blazing and The Keepers of the House by Shirley Ann Grau. And if you like what you read here, please tell others!