is there life after 35?

I sat down this morning to write about losing my footing, lacking momentum, being 35 and feeling the reality of the humdrum.

I left the house early, snuck away to a cafe, ordered a delicious cup of coffee and a yogurt parfait ... the words I longed to write tumbled through my brain, falling over each other demanding a voice, an outlet,  a platform.

The reality of being 35 ..... the dashed different hopes and dreams, the parenting (ohhhhh Lordy, the parenting),  emerging dreams and understanding more fully that ANYTHING that matters is produced through pain.

And I felt tired. Weary. Maybe shackled.

And gosh darn it... I wanted to write about it.

So I sat at a big table, spread out, plugged in my computer (my battery is a finicky sort), slowly ate, sipped and checked facebook eagerly anticipating my glorious blog on being mid thirties and feeling like I.don't.want.to.do.this.thing.called.life.grrrrrr!

I think what really is going on is that I am feeling a bit drab. Blurghy. Blahhhh.  And all I want is for someone to see me and tell me that it was OK.  At this very moment I wanted a mom. Not a mother. Not someone who birthed me. But a mom. A mommy. A person who could walk this drabby, dribbly, icky with me and show me that there was life and light and happy on the other side of ..... now.

I waved my gold painted nails over my keyboard, stroking the keys. I could feel the energy of words building as the tiny cafe filled with fellow morning coffee drinkers.

My train of thought was sharply interrupted by a group of 8 giggly, chatty fifty somethings. They were enjoying the day and each other fully.  I watched them with awe, I was riveted. They ordered breakfast fare at the counter and turned to find a place to sit.... Nothing.  The only table in the place big enough to hold them was..... mine.

Awkward. right?

Nope.

I jumped up, practically yelling at them,"HERE... take my table. Ill sit over there at the two top.... please!"

They were startled by my generosity. And they helped me move all of my things across the bustling cafe to my tiny table in the corner. They expressed their gratitude.  Their thanks. Murmurs of how nice my action was continued until after I settled in.

I just smiled. A deep contented smile.

What I could not tell them with my smile was that they had met me EXACTLY where I needed to be met. They had showed my 35 year old despair that life moves on, life is good, clothing is still fun, eyes still shine, laughter is medicine and friendships are the balm that keep us grounded.

At that moment, I was more grateful than they could ever be.

So... I no longer have anything profound to say. But I do have the bounce in my step back. And hope.