“Well, what do you want your 40s to look like?” That was the question posed to me by my therapist. It was an interesting query, especially as I was sitting at a small desk in Room 380 of the Hotel Roanoke in downtown Roanoke, Virginia. Overlooking Interstate 581, all while the early Friday hustle and bustle moves about.

I started therapy as a sort of Christmas present to myself. Finding myself alone on Dec. 25, I decided it was time to talk to someone about where my head is at these days. As stated in my previous column, I’m not doing well. I’m doing better than I was last week, but it’s still an ongoing process to find balance in my life, emotions, thoughts and actions, personally and professionally.

Try and aim to slow the train that is my daily existence down a tad, at least enough to see what’s around me. Find more time to disappear into the woods. Find more time to simply get more sleep and wake up more casually and naturally, rather than jumping out of bed when the loud alarm sounds, hastily brushing my teeth and combing my hair, only to bolt out the door to an assignment somewhere, anywhere.

An endless stream of vehicles gliding across my field-of-vision on the highway outside this third-floor window. Everybody from the west heading east and vice versa. Where to? And why? Foot pushing down on the accelerator. Stereo cranked loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Eyes focused on keeping this moving hunk of metal between the lines and somewhat under the speed limit.

I keep thinking about how well therapy has been going. Oh, and if you’re looking for a sign to maybe try your hand at it yourself? Well, this is it. Do it. Do it now. It’s not an end-all-be-all to your queries and qualms, but it is another tool to add to your skillset in properly navigating the often-choppy waters that is life itself.

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Thus, amid the whirlwind rollercoaster of people, places, and things as of late that has my heart and soul stuck in the thick mud, I once again logged into my therapy session and soon a face appeared on the screen. She greeted me warmly, asked how my past week has been going, and what’s on my mind at this current juncture.

I told her, honestly and openly, that my mindset has been in a slightly better mood since the last session. But, my anxiety has been higher than normal, where I’ve usually been able to keep my deep existential thoughts at bay. But, with everything that’s happened this fall and winter, and with my 40th birthday looming in the near distance, those thoughts are rattling around in my brain.

“Well, instead of thinking about the dread of turning 40, why don’t you think about what you want the next decade of your life to look like? This is a new chapter for you, an opportunity for personal growth, and to find out what it is you want in your life,” she said, my mind immediately drifting into that ideal fantasy of my adult life.

I see a small cabin somewhere in the woods. Not too far from Waynesville as to be close to amenities and live music, but also far enough away from town where I’ll never hear Russ Avenue construction again, let alone the chaos of a community in motion in real time.

The cabin will hold shelves of my books. Ideally, there’d be a fireplace with a stack of wood next to it. Another corner would house all my vinyl records and that pristine new record player that someday I’ll get around to being able to afford and finally purchase. A simple, comfortable bed equipped with those pillows you find at fancy hotels (like this one), but never seem to find at the store.

I see a mid-century modern desk in front of a big window, which faces out onto a backyard with old trees in view, all of which lending itself to the serene space where I’m able to sit, type and immerse myself in the act of the written word.

Oh, and a great coffeemaker to boot, one where by the second cup-o-joe, I’m already headlong into whatever column on whatever week it happens to be, rambling about whatever it is I’m wanting to share with you fine readers. 

I see a black lab (my favorite kind of dog) laying out somewhere on the floor next to the fireplace, always raising his/her head each time I get up to refill my coffee or throw another log onto the fire, eager for the moment that I’m finally done writing and ready to throw on my running gear and head out the door into Mother Nature.

But, most of all, I see a better version of myself. Beyond the physical aesthetics of this imagined life somewhere down the road, it’s more so about where my mind is at and what it is I have carefully and meticulously created within my being to always retain compassion and kindness for others. And also, at the same time, remember that what matters most isn’t what happened in your life, but how you reacted. That’s the key to anything: reaction.

It’s funny, you know? Everything I’ve imagined and described in these words, sentences and paragraphs is what I’d always hoped my life would be, even when I was daydreaming as a teenager way up on the Canadian Border of the Upstate New York of my youth. It’s the same image that’s been a constant for decades in the back of my thoughts.

That, and all of the other things I dreamt of that would encompass my adult life that have been acquired over the years, that are intact and steadfast: wandering this earth in search of the story, typing wildly about whatever surreal experience I’d just returned from, a lifelong career that’s as fulfilling as it is ongoing, a group of dear friends who are faces I’m “supposed to know in this universe,” a physical body (mine) that’s still able to hike mountains with joyous curiosity, and so forth.

Most of what I imagined my life would be at age 40 is currently way beyond any of my dreams. But, these remaining pieces yet to be cultivated will come in due time. I continue to manifest that future. And, as I do so, I also hope that I’m able to find that balance in another human, someone whose natural magic and intrinsic beauty is seamless in their approach and execution of a life well-lived.

Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.