I am half over.
I think about this multiple times a week. I’ll be washing dishes after dinner, and there it will be. Or pausing to get a good look at the moon from our courtyard. Or, not surprisingly, when I wake up and have to stretch to get my right knee comfortable moving through the day. Aaron is half over. Don’t cue the REO Speedwagon, leased sportscar, and typical mid-life crisis just yet. It’s a good thing. I’m so grateful to be alive. It’s just that looking directly at what is true is where all the magic is.
I haven’t written publicly in a while. Mostly because since last we’ve talked for a lot of us, life has been a whirlwind of change. Many of you knew me as a minister. For a few years now, I have been fundraising for an amazing school. I have a new home. I’m married again to a woman I adore. I now have two boys and two stepdaughters in our own little Brady Bunch remake. I’ve navigated significant family loss. Each a profound shift, each demanding my full attention and energy. In the midst of it all, my public reflection fell by the wayside, a casualty of a life in constant motion. But in that time, I’ve learned so much. One of the consistent lessons in these transitions—loss, love, new beginnings—is that it’s in the moments of uncertainty that we often find our greatest strength.
As life is more settled, I find myself reaching for the keyboard again. I do my best thinking out loud. It helps clarify things. Emerson said one of the most powerful things we can offer is “life, passed through the fire of thought.”
If you're reading this, chances are you're half over, too, if not more. The questions that occupied the first half of life seem different now. We've filled in many blanks, checked many boxes. Success, failure, love, loss, adventure. The question becomes: What do we do with it? What's the most meaningful way to live this second half?
For now, writing is that fire of thought and a way to work through these questions. I imagine many of you are grappling with similar things. Perhaps you've experienced success but found it didn't deliver the purpose it promised. Maybe your mortality is staring you in the face for the first time in a way that feels present.
These are the things on my mind: What does mature love look like? How do we face mortality and grief? What is true success? How do we best use our one life? What actually causes suffering, and what actually gives freedom? What does it mean to live with extreme authenticity? How do we give what only we can give? How do we learn, not just to live with challenges and discomfort, but to use them as the primary way we experience what’s most powerful and true in life?
So here I am. Hi, it’s been a while. Maybe I’ll be more honest and vulnerable this time. When I was leading in a religious community, I felt limited in many ways, wanting to portray a polished image that hit just the right notes. But there are no right notes - just the real ones.
One thing I know is that I get better in relationship. My best work and growth is done out loud and in dialogue with others. Maybe yours is, too. Maybe you’d get something out of stopping to look at our lives, seeing what is genuinely true, and learning everything we can. I'm excited to be back in conversation with you. Please talk back, comment, ask, share, and follow along.
We might be half over, but we're just getting started.
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Glad to hear your voice again. I’m 80 and started a new career. It’s never too late but I asked my doctor today if it was wearing myself out or making me stronger. She said I was clearly having too much fun for it to be the former. Keeping on.
Hello Aaron
Im glad to hear from you.
Im glad to hear you are in a good place.
You are and have always been at least half full of wisdom.
Helen