Double Nickels

      Thirty years ago, I wrote a weekly column titled “Life in the 20s” for the Staten Island Advance. It was not a column about flappers and the Harlem Renaissance, but rather a series of essays about the journey through young adulthood. It may not have been “Friends,” but it seemed to attract a following on Staten Island for a minute or two. 

            I recall that in January of 1996, I wrote a piece about how old it felt to turn 25. I wrote about all of the challenges that came with turning such a mature age with college in the rear-view mirror and full-time employment the new normal. I received a birthday card from a dedicated reader who told me I knew nothing about turning old. 

            Thirty years later, I know a few more things about aging. After all, I’m older than my parents were when I wrote that column, and my older daughter could write that column in less than a year. As I celebrate my “double nickels” birthday today, I wonder what I might say to that 25-year-old kid who shared his fears of growing older. I’d mostly want him to live his life without any unsolicited advice. But there might be some things we discuss.

            We might talk about the point in time when some of us allow the focus on “what’s next” in life to also include an enjoyment of “what’s now.” That shift happens at different ages for different people, and it’s been a little at a time for me. It might be a birth, an illness, a death, or another life-changing experience that moves this along. But when it does, we may find ourselves willing to sit and savor the moment in ways we hadn’t done before. To stay in the present longer than we once did.

            I remember that 25-year-old kid constantly thinking and working toward the upcoming chapters of life, from the next job to the next home to the next vacation. The ambition was unceasing, and the work ethic was relentless. It was not uncommon for me to have three stories in the Advance on the same day, and not uncommon for me to work a 12-hour day before going home to organize my clips and résumé.

            At one point in our late 20s, my wife Amy and I sat down together and talked about what we both seemed to want in our life together and in our careers. I had come to recognize that I craved the opportunity to teach and serve as a role model for young people every day. As much as I loved reporting, I wanted the “what’s now” to also include support for young people who were growing and finding themselves. Amy had already decided on that path, so we took it together.

            I switched from reporting to teaching at age 28, and then from teaching to school administration at age 47. Amy and I moved from New York to Massachusetts, and then from Massachusetts to New Jersey. We traveled as much as possible before we had children, and less so after that. Parenthood brought with it all kinds of adventures that I did not appreciate in 1996, and caring for an ill parent has also challenged me in ways I could never have understood.

            At the same time, some things have not changed at age 55. I am still making plans both in my job and in my life, and the workdays are long. I’ve been a high school principal for 18 months, and I’m always reflecting on what’s next for my school and my staff. But when I do that, I am able to draw on the many experiences I’ve had in education, journalism, parenting, marriage, childhood, and life itself to deepen my school leadership.

            This collection of life experiences can help make those “what’s next” decisions more compatible with who I am and what I want my “what’s now” moments to be. Yes, I’m working so hard that I haven’t written a blog post in 14 months. But I’m also doing exactly what I want to be doing with my life. Paying attention to who I am and what I am cut out to do has helped me make those decisions. I also recognize that 55 is nowhere near retirement age for me, so I look forward to doing this work for a long time.

            I recognize that I’m blessed to be active and alive at age 55, and there are no days I want to wish away. Even the days that are a grind are so full of possibility and potential joy, from the interactions with others to the things I might learn along the way. And every day brings with it the possibility that I could be of use to others and make even the smallest difference in this world.

            I think that if the 25-year-old and I were to spend some time together, we’d still have a lot in common. I’m sure we’d go out for a run, and maybe grab some pizza and a movie. I’d remind him that he’s not just chronicling birthdays anymore, but anniversaries as well. Don’t ever forget the life partner you’ve got, and share your love with her. He’d hear that as well.

            As we parted ways, he might ask me if I wanted to write a “Life in the 50s” column. I’d graciously decline, sharing that at 55, age is really the last thing on my mind. I’m focusing on paying attention, learning, leading, and growing. The numbers are just window dressing.