I am getting close to another birthday, and this one is a big one. I am turning 40. I started thinking about turning forty about a day after I turned 39. For some reason, I could not wrap my head around it. How the hell could I be turning 40? Where has my life gone? What have I done with it? Am I at the start of a mid-life crisis?
Recently I have been reflecting on some of the fantastic work experiences I have had over the past 20 something years. Being in my late 30’s I have realized that I get to look at things from an interesting perspective. I am not fresh out of college and getting my first “real job” guy, nor do I have 4 decades of experiences and history that my friends who have begun to talk about retirement have. I land somewhere in the middle.
I remember hearing ghost stories as a child. How the tales of souls returned from the great beyond would keep me awake for nights as I imagined a spirit emerging from behind my closet door or a cold, dead hand reaching up from under my bed and grabbing my ankle. In college, on Halloween night, we held seances and played with Ouija boards attempting to summon a spirit or communicate with loved ones long past.