Once around the sun... (Day 1)

Starting something new can be scary.

Starting something new and personal can be scarier.

Starting something new and personal that you intend to eventually share with the world can be downright terrifying.

I write this on my 39th birthday. Of course, in Western society we start the count at “1” only after you’ve completed a full trip around the sun, so the fact that I’ve officially hit “39” means today is actually the first day of my fortieth year.

That’s a significant milestone for me, although I’m not quite sure why.

Perhaps it’s because the average Canadian male is only expected to live for 80.2 years, so making it to 40 years old means that, statistically speaking, I’m officially halfway done. (Of course, I’m still hoping for Calico to come through for humanity and help us all live forever.)

Or maybe it’s because I distinctly remember when my father turned 40; my mother threw him a big party and invited all of his friends, and it’s the only time that we celebrated a birthday milestone in such a grandiose fashion.

But I think it’s just because “40” is one of those big life-markers you have in your head.

And I’ve decided to do something a little different in the 365 days leading up to the occasion. Something new. Something terrifying.

My “something” comes in two parts. The first part involves a list I completed yesterday. The list contains 40 things I intend to accomplish in the year leading up to my 40th birthday.

I’m not going to share the complete list with you -- not yet, anyway -- because some of the items on the list are very personal to me. And some of those personal items might seem stupid, or arrogant, or outrageous without the proper context. (Actually, some of them may appear to be stupid, arrogant, or outrageous even once the context is provided, but I suspect the context will help.) 

Some of the items on the list are intended to help me expand my mind: “learn to speak Italian” and “teach myself to play the guitar”, for instance. Some are there to help me improve my body: “run a marathon” and “bench-press my weight twice”, for example. A few items are there just for fun, and a few more will allow me (in some small way) to make life a little better for others.

The second part of my “something” is the part that’s terrifying for me. 

One of the items on my “40 to 40” list is to write a paragraph every day. (I’m not restricting myself to only one paragraph, as clearly evidenced by this entry, it just has to be a least one.) 

But I won’t allow myself to simply write any paragraph. My intent is to capture something I might have discovered, contemplated, learned, or realized that day as concisely and elegantly as I can. (I’m going to attempt to be funny and inspiring too, but I make no promises.)

Completing the items on my “40 to 40” list will certainly help give me something to write about. But that’s only 40 entries, at best. For the rest of the year, having something worthwhile to write will require me to pay careful attention to my interactions with others, and to properly reflect on each day’s events so I can capture them well. “Being present” and “reflecting” don’t always come naturally for me, so this is another opportunity I have to grow.

Assuming I’m diligent with my writing, by the time I hit my fortieth birthday, I’ll have 365 entries. And I plan to take all of those entries and release them to the world in the form of a book.

I don’t know if anyone will care to read it. But the thought of releasing something I’ve created is terrifying, because that particular something will represent a year of my thoughts, actions, accomplishments, and defeats.

“This is pointless.”

“This is boring.”

“This is crap.”

When you create something and share it with others, criticism is inevitable. And the more personal the creation, the more damaging negative feedback can be. 

But life simply can’t be lived in fear of what others might think of you, or the work you produce. 

So if after my year is complete and my work is released, some people decide my pursuits weren’t interesting enough, my thoughts weren’t inspiring enough, or my writing just wasn’t good enough, then so be it.

But I won’t let that stop me. Even if it’s terrifying.