I just celebrated my 67th birthday, and I’m still not sure how I feel about that. Sixty‑five had some punch to it. Even 66 felt like a solid number. But 67… it’s like an invisible number. The middle grounds.
It’s not a place you start from, and it’s not a place you aim for. It feels more like being somewhere out in the middle of the ocean — not sinking, not drifting off course, just out there. A stretch of water you move through because that’s where the current takes you.
And the thing about the middle grounds is that it’s easy to get lost. You don’t have the usual landmarks to guide you. No big milestones, no clear markers, nothing that tells you “you’re here” or “you’re heading there.” You have to rely on your bearings. Where are you going? What direction still feels true? Hold that bearing and keep plugging away… and of course, keep the water out of your boat.
That’s how I feel right now. Like I just need to grind it out. Nothing is pulling me toward something new, and nothing is pushing me away from where I am. It’s the steady, everyday rhythm of getting up and doing what needs to be done.
And it’s not that I’m ungrateful. I’m thankful for my life, for what I have, for what I’m doing. It’s not about that. It’s just this feeling of needing to keep going — even when there’s no big spark, no big shift, no big moment pointing me in a direction.
The middle grounds may not come with fireworks or milestones, but they have their own kind of clarity. You learn what matters, what doesn’t, and what keeps you upright. So I’ll keep my bearings, keep the water out of the boat, and keep going.
Maybe that’s enough for now…