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a life 55 percent gone

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Turned forty-four this week, and for the first birthday in years, I've noticed; I guess I can see fifty coming. I can recall deciding to start cleaning up my act and becoming an adult when I turned 26. I've got that feeling once again, though this time it's all about getting my kids into and through decent schools and preparing to retire.

.oO(Retire! That was quick.)

Where does it find me. 43 was one of the most interesting years of my life. I volunteered with Cycle Toronto, canvassing and fixing people's bikes and learning how to influence city hall. I completed my master's degree. The Girl outgrew her infancy and became a toddler you could talk to. I underwent a string of trials with new migraine treatments that led to some astonishing insights into the medical system and how medications work (and don't). I caught my first-ever large fish. I attended a conference that seems to have changed the trajectory of my career in a year in which I otherwise started doing the most interesting work I've ever done. I've met more people with something to teach me than I can count, and am grateful. And to wrap up the year, I went ice fishing for the first time.

I now have a plan for the course of the rest of my life, something I would have scoffed at back at 26, and still been unable to sketch out at 37 when my son was born. I guess some people find these things later in life.

I'm looking forward to 44 (and fifty). Woohoo!