Weekend Log: Now we are six(ty)

Midlifers —

Where do we even start? Do we pick up where we left off two weeks ago and talk about the rest of my Maine Odyssey — going sailing with new friends, kayaking past seals in Camden Harbor or my stay at THE LOST KITCHEN?

Or what about my 60th birthday celebration that was the “influencer” event of my dreams with lots of branding and merch (thanks to my very crafty and creative daughters)? And the four days the six of us spent hiking, puzzling and eating our way through Vermont?

Should we dive into the SIX books I read that hit all the genres, from romance to writing advice to Odyssey-inspired tales to my favorite book (so far) or the year?

Maybe we should jump right in and talk about solo travel, whether that’s holing up in a cabin overlooking the ocean for a week or bopping around and trying new things — like spending a day on a boat with strangers or eating raw scallops. You might be interested in what it’s like to take yourself out to a gorgeous dinner and sit at a bar and not look at your phone.

In fact, I’d love to hear what you’d like to know more about. That’s one thing I’m leaning into in this new decade — recognizing I am not a mind reader and asking people what they want (and sharing what I want, too!).

1. Let go of expectations — Unlike my previous two trips to the Nest del mar, this year’s stay did not include an itinerary for optimizing my time there. I put zero pressure on myself to write a certain number of words or hours a day, read x number of books or squeeze in daily excursions. Instead, the rhythm of my seven days at the small cabin in a pretty isolated spot along Maine’s Midcoast was dictated by the tides.

   The small cove is separated from a larger stretch of beach by a river flowing into the ocean, so long walks must be timed around low tide to allow walkers to cross that stretch of sand safely. Other than that daily two-hour window, the rest of my days were spent as I liked, whether that was sitting on the beach with a book or in an Adirondack chair outside the cabin writing or taking a cat nap after lunch.

   

   When it came to my actual birthday, I arrived at 60, too, with zero expectations. I didn’t care what my time with my kids would look like or whether the itinerary they cooked up would match any preconceived ideas. Instead, I was blown away by the crafting and prep that they put into celebrating me. I felt super seen and loved.