Hello 40 … you son of a b*tch.

Its finally found me …  I'll be 40 in exactly three days. 

The months coming up to the day is kind of foggy and mysterious. Not the good kind of mysterious. The kind of mysterious when you're sitting in a helicopter waiting to go up for the first time and you realise how very tiny and tinny it is and asking yourself whether you trust the pilot and whether his nails are clean … yes that kind. The good news is closer to the day the fog starts to clear and I can see the makings of a plan. A plan for my forties.

It involves a number of tiny steps in the right direction. First, the facial, hair, feet preparation because I simply cannot be looking crusty when I make that touchdown. I bought a lovely old desk to set up my own little area to write, read and create from. A space to inspire and just be without excuses and justification. It's amazing how many times you justify your own ideas and aspirations to others expecting them to understand and pat you on the back. Is it our human need for acceptance surfacing again? Where we are afraid to go against the grain because something perceived to be different would result in us being ostracised from the pack?

Well to hell with it. I want to be different. I don't want to be you. I want to be me.

Yesterday I took my daughter to the circus. It was something I wanted to share with her since my experience as a young girl was magical! There is so much hype about animal cruelty and people just generally slating the circus as old and outdated. I bought the tickets anyway. And off we went. When I saw the clown at the door I noticed how old his costume looked and how dusty and hot the big top was. I kept looking for reasons why everyone else was right about how they felt about the circus. 

After a few acts of acrobats, poodles in hoops, jugglers, clowns… something happened. My daughter just got into it and punched her fists in the air, shouting whooo hooo at the top of her voice. And i started to enjoy it with her. She didn't care that it was old, dusty and hot. All she saw was magic… ballerinas that fly and acrobats doing handstands on galloping horses. And from that moment I saw the beauty with her. It was as if I was transformed back to my first magical moment. 

It's the old timelessness of the circus that makes it magical. It's the dedication and passion you see in the performers faces. Imagine the life they lead? Travelling continuously, love and sacrifice for their art. It made me realise that you can only find the most beautiful things when you follow your heart and commit to it. Commit to you.

And that is the kind of forty year old I want to be. The kind that follows her heart and makes magic along the way.