Some ways back, when I was in grad school, we had a tradition of hazing my thesis adviser on his birthday. It started on his fortieth birthday because he had promised everyone "when I turn 40, I'll mellow out". For whatever reason, I specifically remember when we helped toast (or roast as the case may be) his 43rd birthday. We gave him something framed with a list of good reasons to be 43. I think we put his phone number on signs around campus. There was cake and probably an alcoholic beverage or two. As a group whose average age was about 25 we thought we were pretty clever.
What has made this particular even so memorable for me was at the time I really thought that your 40s must be both about getting older and about having some magical wisdom to impart to others. It seemed like he knew everything and could get almost anything done. At any given time, the lab I worked in had 12-15 people employed at various levels of the scientific food chain, most working on independent projects that my thesis adviser had to impart both advice and funding for. I was always impressed with the things he knew, the way he connected ideas, the network of resource he was connected to, the fact that he always had another idea or a way to test something ready to go. And I never felt that I would be able to make that leap from grad student who couldn't think her way out of a paper bag to someone mentoring others.
Flash forward sixteen or seventeen years and I find myself in the position of celebrating my own 43rd birthday. Even though I'm not running my own lab, I'm back at a university (a place I never thought I'd be again) and I'm managing a group that all told encompasses 12-15 people. I'm the one sitting across the desk trying to help someone on my team work through an issue that they are stuck on or develop a plan of attack for something they are embarking on. Or tapping into my network to find a resource or a tool.
It is odd to think that there is nothing magical that got me to this place, and that the real thing you build up between your twenties and your forties is experience, confidence in your abilities and an overall better understanding of yourself.
The past 6 months or so have been strange for me because at the same time that I've felt like I'm truly coming into my own, I've also had this realization that I am getting older. I'm trying to grow and improve on those things that make me feel happy with who I am and at the same time, I'm trying to make significant change in those things that I know are weighing me down.
I can remember when I defended my thesis, that my adviser made a comment about the changeability of my hair. At the time, I wasn't sure of what to make of that and didn't entirely take it in the humor with which it was meant. But looking back now, it makes me laugh because it's true. Whenever I need change, the first thing I do is attack my hair. And what did I give myself for my 43rd birthday* this year?
Yep. Indeed. Red hair. I've always loved color in my crafting and I can't believe that it took me so long to realize that I could update me with a healthy dose of color, too. To say that I like being a red head would be an understatement. And what could be better than hearing from Z "Oh Momma! I love your red hair!"
And the hair color is just the beginning.
*this event is about a month old now... in a rare occurrence, it made it on Twitter and Facebook before the blog
What has made this particular even so memorable for me was at the time I really thought that your 40s must be both about getting older and about having some magical wisdom to impart to others. It seemed like he knew everything and could get almost anything done. At any given time, the lab I worked in had 12-15 people employed at various levels of the scientific food chain, most working on independent projects that my thesis adviser had to impart both advice and funding for. I was always impressed with the things he knew, the way he connected ideas, the network of resource he was connected to, the fact that he always had another idea or a way to test something ready to go. And I never felt that I would be able to make that leap from grad student who couldn't think her way out of a paper bag to someone mentoring others.
Flash forward sixteen or seventeen years and I find myself in the position of celebrating my own 43rd birthday. Even though I'm not running my own lab, I'm back at a university (a place I never thought I'd be again) and I'm managing a group that all told encompasses 12-15 people. I'm the one sitting across the desk trying to help someone on my team work through an issue that they are stuck on or develop a plan of attack for something they are embarking on. Or tapping into my network to find a resource or a tool.
It is odd to think that there is nothing magical that got me to this place, and that the real thing you build up between your twenties and your forties is experience, confidence in your abilities and an overall better understanding of yourself.
The past 6 months or so have been strange for me because at the same time that I've felt like I'm truly coming into my own, I've also had this realization that I am getting older. I'm trying to grow and improve on those things that make me feel happy with who I am and at the same time, I'm trying to make significant change in those things that I know are weighing me down.
I can remember when I defended my thesis, that my adviser made a comment about the changeability of my hair. At the time, I wasn't sure of what to make of that and didn't entirely take it in the humor with which it was meant. But looking back now, it makes me laugh because it's true. Whenever I need change, the first thing I do is attack my hair. And what did I give myself for my 43rd birthday* this year?
Yep. Indeed. Red hair. I've always loved color in my crafting and I can't believe that it took me so long to realize that I could update me with a healthy dose of color, too. To say that I like being a red head would be an understatement. And what could be better than hearing from Z "Oh Momma! I love your red hair!"And the hair color is just the beginning.
*this event is about a month old now... in a rare occurrence, it made it on Twitter and Facebook before the blog
I love your red hair too! You look so beautiful! Truly.
It looks great! Initially, I thought you were showing us a picture of you in your graduate school days. And you got the most important confidence vote - that of Ms. Z.
Congrats! There is something magical about red hair. Oh, and it attracts older, odd men, too, but even that can be fun.
(Red for 29+ years, but not by the grace of God -- more like Miss Clairol.)
Your daughter is right; your hair looks great! Happy Birthday.
I love it! My hair has been a variety of shades of auburn, but I've never been brave enough to have it really red!
Love it! I used to change colors too, but have been feeling like I'm "too old" for that. I think I need to reset my thinking (although I am older than you).
I love your red hair! You look fabulous.
Oooh! Gorgeous...subtle, but unmistakably red!
Funny. I've been dying my hair for years upon years (before I worked in uber corporate America I had funky hair colors like pink and purple and blue), and only recently just stopped dying my hair red. Yours looks pretty awesome and almost makes me want to dye my hair again!