I’ve been reading a lot.
And thinking too much.
Probably not too surprising as I’ve entered the second act of my life’s play.
A milestone birthday along with a major life change always kickstarts some serious self reflection.
And so will taking a life expectancy quiz, where I’m gently reminded that I have a lot more miles behind me then in front of me.
But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Instead more like a coaching session to convince me to pick up the pace.
And I’m excited.
In the last year, I’ve discovered in many ways I’m moving back to that girl I once was (except for some graying hair and those wrinkles of wisdom).
What I’m talking about here is jogging back towards my passions.
Writing, drawing, photography, the outdoors.
Those passions from my twenties that rarely were penciled in with work and family responsibilities.
Then finally growing dormant once the cobwebs of family illnesses covered all.
But it doesn’t really matter if I’m older now, with a smaller nest egg as a result.
As I’m much richer for the growing appreciation I have for the years left.
And I don’t need much besides my own health.
When I was young, my life was never more efficient than when I lived in a small studio apartment.
Maybe it would be again, with a library, grocer and a community center where I can volunteer after my senior dogs have passed over the rainbow bridge.
I’d also want a lake nearby as my muse, with ample acres of parkland to travel.
Along with one sturdy mountain bike and a good pair of snowshoes.
Because in the end this second act is simply about playing more.
And smiling more as well.