Good enough.

I just recently turned 49. Which translates to something bigger:  I’m in my 50th year of living. Even typing that feels a bit shocking, as I’m still somewhat sixteen years old on the inside.

The other day, on my yoga mat (where only good things happen) I saw my life in two distinct halves. (I’ve always held to some sort of belief that I will live to one hundred or slightly beyond). So the arithmetic says, I’m just starting the second half of my life. And then it hit me.

What if I could really get a second start at 50? What if it were just as if the slate were wiped clean, and along with it, stupid mistakes, big and small, were just – gone. Continue reading