I am not where I wanted to be, where the young version of me dreamed I’d be at this stage of my life.

I’m fatter than I wanted to be, poorer than I imagined I’d be, not in the vocational position I dreamt about being in, and there are people I’m not as close to anymore as I’d have liked.

The reality is that while I imagined a future I wanted, I didn’t necessarily plan my life to ensure I moved in that direction, genetics aside, it’s not really anyone else’s fault that I am chubbier than I would have preferred, ha ha, that’s on me.

Yet, some things are out of our control, sometimes the choices of others create detours/roadblocks we were not expecting, or wanting. I’m not throwing stones either, because as my daughter and I often talk about, we are all living out our lives for the first time.

But reflecting on my forty fifth year around the sun, life has been good on many fronts, this reorientation thing creating forward movement again, day by day, is a really beautiful thing.

But interestingly yesterday I found myself shedding some tears once again as I reflected on what I perceived has been lost over the years, and in part, the pain it has also caused others I love. It came as a surprise to me, but I’ve learnt grief is healthy when processed, rather than buried.

“I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.”

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

While the time between moments of grief grows further and further apart, and the waves less and less turbulent, I recognise that not all tears are an evil, in fact sometimes tears are a good indicator I’m on track.

Buried tears create resentment and bitterness and the potential for a victim mindset, but tears that are allowed to flow and reflected on, and tears that are acknowledged for what they are, can bring healing.

Counting your blessings reminds you of where the value in life is really found. Rarely when people count their blessings do they start with material things, often they start with people they love, and the people they know love them in return.

At the 45 mark, I’m most grateful for my people. Those who leant in when I tried to push them away cos of my own pain, those who laugh with me, those who challenge me, those who defend me, those who dream with me, and believe in me. There is something about having people in your world who just like to hang out with you, and you with them…..I’m pretty sure that’s called friendship actually.

Yesterday I cried tears of grief, but today I cried tears of gladness.