This Isn't the Wisdom I Expected

The unexpected shape of 50 brought a clearer relationship to what's ahead.

There was a particular kind of clarity that came with turning 50 this summer – not the soft-focus wisdom I expected, but something sharper, more demanding. The past five years since I began writing this newsletter have taught me that living fully isn't about choosing the good parts or avoiding the hard ones; it's about saying yes to all of it. And this summer's milestone brought an unexpected gift – not peace exactly, but a sense of closure. Turning 50 has been surreal – a threshold where everything feels off and yet somehow right.

I am here on the other side, fundamentally altered, and not always comfortable. I am learning to be me at all costs. For years, I've been the one who shows up, handles things, makes it work, people pleases – caught in that exhausting dance of meeting others' needs while parking mine in the corner. I’ve spent the year asking myself: How do I live more authentically? How do I distinguish between divine purpose and self-imposed obligation? How do I honor all my parts – caretaker, creator, seeker, human – without feeling fragmented? Fortunately, I am practicing a new way of being and have support from many sources, including my dear friend and coach

Aransas Savas

, but it can still feel very hard to say no, and to know how to make room to honor my yeses.

I am too young to be resigned, too old to be uncertain. I want to make decisions from a place of power, not crisis. I am ready to choose my next right thing, but as this year has taught me, this requires a different kind of courage – the courage to slow down and focus more on inner wisdom rather than external validation. Saying no to the career path previously expected of me while saying yes to one many found surprising was a start this year. What is next?

Apparently I’m a Nine in the Enneagram. (Mike [

Books on GIF

], you were right, I’m not a Two).) They call us Peacemakers – spiritual seekers yearning for connection with both cosmos and community, always able to see the worthiness of each party’s perspective while eternally working to maintain internal and external harmony, even when harmony is just not possible. Often this manifests as people pleasing, decision making paralysis, and loss of self.

The antidote isn't complicated, though it requires courage: Tell the truth and tell it fast. Deal with unpleasantness swiftly. Learn to own my opinions without apology. These aren't just strategies; they're declarations of self-worth, ways of choosing presence over peace-at-all-costs. Surrender leads to truth. In this light, my desire for solitude this year, my pull toward quiet contemplation, takes on new meaning – not as another form of escape, but as a conscious choice to stay present with myself.

This understanding has shifted how I view the coming year. I want to feel the fulfillment of creating, the excitement of travel, the peace of alone time, the grounding of nature and quiet, and the thrill of leadership. I now see these desires not as escapes or solutions, but as conscious choices to engage fully with life as I require.

The path toward 2025 seems clear, even if the destination isn't: submit my new book proposal and draft and find an aligned agent, publish an up-and-coming poet in my imprint, Posnoni North (more soon!); travel travel travel. Something is coming!

The discipline needed for this is simple, though not easy: Release old patterns that distract. Reclaim my space. Notice when doing more, staying busy, too busy, becomes an escape mechanism rather than a conscious choice. I want to invest time in myself not because I'm broken or need fixing, but because I'm worthy of this investment.

With this in mind I invite you to also consider this as you face the new year: What are you ready to claim? What spaces yearn to be reclaimed? What truths wait to be spoken? Map out your new year not from a place of should or must, but from a place of deep listening. What makes you feel most alive? What drains your energy, and what replenishes it? The answers may surprise you, may frighten you even. They might ask you to disappoint others, to change long-held patterns, to step into unknown territory. But they will be your answers, your truth, your way forward.

You are worthy of this exploration. You are worthy of this time and attention. You are worthy of creating exactly the kind of beauty, love, and enjoyment that speaks to your soul. The world needs your authentic presence more than it needs your perpetual availability. It needs your truth more than it needs your compliance. I say this in part for you, in part for me.

What would it looks like to apply this in 2025 – to all of its surprises, challenges, and moments of grace? I think there is magic inside this equation. Here's to choosing ourselves in ways both small and profound. Here's to living fully into whatever comes next, knowing that each choice, each boundary, each moment of rest or action builds the life we're brave enough to claim. Here’s to a new year.