8/31/1966

Turning 40 is an odd thing. I fought it for the last few years. My wife is about 18 months older than I am, and hit the big 4-0 before me. So did most of my friends. I talked trash and gave them plenty of "old people" jokes. Oops.

Yesterday I turned 40. It came and went. Not scary. Just calm and good things. And of course lots of "old man" jokes from my family and friends.

Its good. Real good. I can dish it and I can take it. Moving on.

I think what I know now about 40 (as if this is some great revelation) is that it doesn’t mean I’m old, or past my prime. It means that I finally have the self-confidence to do things that I have always thought I could, but didn’t because I wasn’t…cool enough, smart enough, out-going enough.

This has been building in me for some time. The sense that I have finally grown up, and am fully accountable for my actions, my life and "what I want to be when I grow up."

So being 40 (for all of 1 day) is a sense of coming into a time when I know who I am, know what I believe, and know that other people shouldn’t have so much influence in my life unless I want them to.

Day by day, walking it out. Taking risks and not being scared.

Being 40.

turning 40 years old