More is More

I have been 40 for approximately 8 weeks now ... and already the "mature woman" offers are starting to roll in.  Anti-aging cream, vitamins, herbal energy enhancers, estrogen replacement therapy, Depends ...

A few weeks after turning the big 4-0 I received an offer in the mail for a free year's subscription to More magazine ... a magazine designed by and for the "mature" woman.  More promised that I would no longer have to ogle the  Lindsay Lohans of the world as cover girls ... no longer be subjected to "in depth" interviews with the Jonas Brothers ... that they would feature styles that didn't include super short mini skirts and ripped skinny jeans ... or hair that is styled into pigtails and ribbons.  More, as I mentioned before, is for the "mature" woman. 

Now before you judge ... yes, it can be argued that a woman such as myself whose iPod is filled with Eminem, Ke$ha, Lady Gaga, Trey Songz (I didn't spell that incorrectly ... it really does end in a Z), Rhianna and Jay-Z and whose favorite television shows include Gossip Girl (xoxo), America's Next Top Model and Glee may not be quite the "mature" woman they were targeting.  However, the subscription was free and I thought ... what the heck?  I'd much rather respond to the offer of a free magazine than to the free offer of Depends.  But truth be told ... I'm a sucker for a free sample.  So I got the Depends too.  You can never be too prepared. 

At first, I was quite offended that the editor-in-chief of More felt that I needed a magazine dedicated to the mature woman.  For goodness sakes, I had only been 40 for a few weeks ... did they have every woman in America's birth date listed on a calendar and once the magic date hit, the offer went into the mail?  What's next?  The mailman leaving me a copy of AARP??

Needless to say, I left the envelope sit on my desk with all of the other junk mail that needed sorted and/or thrown away.  The longer the envelope sat there, the more I couldn't decide whether it would become a product of the "keep" pile or the "trash" pile.  So I opened the envelope and looked inside.  And here is what eventually caught my eye ... a mini sampling of More was located inside to give you a glimpse of what their magazine had to offer.  And in big bold red lettering it said the following ... "It's Your Turn Now."  Those 4 words piqued my interest and it got me to thinking.  My turn for what?

I will tell you.  Apparently, I am in the "autumn" of my life.  That's right ... I am now in the "autumn" of my life.  Apparently spring and summer have long since passed and I am now full blown into fall.  Lucky for me ... it happens to be my favorite season. 

Let's take a moment to explore what all this entails.  It means my leaves are bright and beautiful and more colorful than at any other point in my life.  I happen to love the smell of fall in the air ... so apparently my scent is particularly pleasing.  Fruit is ripe and juicy and ready to be harvested ... and I'm not really sure how to relate that to myself without it sounding dirty ... so talk amongst yourselves. 

It's the time of year I love the most because the days are warm and the nights are crisp and cool (which doesn't really make a whole lot of sense in this scenario because as I have not yet entered menopause ... I hear hot flashes and night sweats are a complete b*tch).  People are out enjoying the last few beautiful days of the season before settling in for the long, harsh winter (at least they are in northwestern PA ... if you live in Hawaii you're probably okay and don't even realize how precious and luxurious a beautiful fall day can be). 

So I am autumn.  And I'm okay with that.  I get the distinction.  I'm not spring ... that's for the really young like my daughter.  I'm not summer ... that was me 15 years ago ... when I didn't realize I was a summer and was covered more in baby poop and spit-up than I was in tanning lotion.  I am an autumn.  And it's MY time now. 

Interesting.  I've never really thought about it like that before.  In the spring of my life I was like all young, teen aged girls ... self-absorbed, full of spirit and ready to dive head-first into the drama.  In the summer of my life I was raising two children, helping a husband build up his own business and CEO of the M's Palazzo.  Which sounds fancy ... but it really just means that I was taking care of everything and everyone in the household ... bills, laundry, cleaning, car pools, PTA, doctors/dentists appointments, vehicle tune-ups, etc., etc, etc.  By the time I was starting to leave the summer solstice, I realized that I should get a job ... because I had been teaching my young, impressionable daughter that she could grow up to be anything she wanted ... and yet, her mother was a stay-at-home mom.  It seemed hypocritical.  So, I got a job.  Part-time at first ... that worked with my children's and husband's schedules.  So I could still stay on full-time as CEO of the M's Palazzo.  And eventually I was asked to take a full-time position and I took it.  Because it fit around the children's and husband's schedules, had better insurance that would pay for two sets of very expensive braces and would not interrupt my current position as CEO of the M's Palazzo. 

Do you see a pattern here?  In the summer of your life, you are so busy running around making sure everyone else has on their SPF 30, not drowning in the pool, not standing too close to the campfire, wearing their helmets to avoid a bike injury, etc. that you hardly ever have a chance to lie down for 15 minutes to soak up the summer sun yourself.  Summer seems to go by so quickly it is like it was hardly ever here to begin with. 

And now it's autumn and it's my turn.  I get it.  I do.  I once asked my husband if he won $100 million in the lottery if he would quit his job.  He said no.  I said what about $200 million?  He said no.  A billion?  No.  What?  Why not?  Because he loves his job.  He said if won the lottery he may cut back on his hours and we would travel more ... but no, he would never give up his job.  He is passionate about his job and his hobby ... antiques.  He even turned his hobby into another successful business.  So, my husband, who is also in the autumn of his life, runs two successful businesses and loves what he does so much that he wouldn't give it up for any amount of money in the world.  Wow ... I don't know what that feels like. 

But maybe I should.  And he said as much when I showed him the bold red letters on my advertisement.  He said ... "They're right.  Go find your passion and do what you want to do."  And this, my friends, is why I'm still married to this man ... even though there are days he makes me question my sanity.  In just the right moment, with just the right words ... he pulls me right back in again.  "Go find your passion."  As far as I know, I have never had a "passion" for anything besides cheesecake. 

For the past 17 years, I have focused on my family ... and I don't regret that and I cherish every memory I have been blessed to have made with each and every one of them.  On the other side of that statement, every decision I have ever made in the last 17 years has been for my family as well.  I never finished my college degree because I had a family to raise and the money was better spent on a roof over our head and clothes on our backs.  I chose the jobs I have had to fit around my family's schedule ... not because I had a true passion for the work.  Maybe it's time to contemplate a change ... a big change. 

I don't expect to wake up tomorrow with an epiphany of what my true passion is.  It will take some time and a lot of soul searching.  But my children are growing and will be off to start their own lives in the very near future and I've already established that my husband won't be retiring anytime soon.  So that leaves me staring at the end of my career as the CEO of the M's Palazzo.  What will I do?  Do I want to keep working a "job" that I enjoy but am not passionate about or have a new career?  Will I go back and finish my college degree?  Fly to Paris and learn to be a pastry chef?  Only time will tell. 

There is a movie that I adore ... One True Thing ... with Meryl Streep and Renee Zelleweger.  If you haven't seen it, please do.  See it with your mother or your daughter or both and have some Kleenex handy.  Meryl and Renee play a mother and daughter and the mother is dying of cancer.  The mother is trying to teach her cynical daughter a life lesson about choosing to be happy ... the mother says to the daughter while walking home on a crisp autumn evening (coincidence?), "Your father always says less is more ... mm hmm ... but to me, more is more."  Isn't that awesome?  More is more.  Live big ... live loud ... make an impact. 

I am in the autumn of my life ... maybe the leaves are starting to lose their color and the air is getting colder in yours ... or maybe you're still smack dab in the middle of summer.  Take time to cherish every season ... because you only get four.  Is it ever too late for a change?  I don't think so.  Change can be scary ... but it can also catapult you into the adventure of a lifetime. 

Yes my dear readers, More is More ... and it is now also my favorite magazine.

 © 2010-2011 Melanie L. Miller All Rights Reserved