There's a widening gap between who I feel I am and what I'm capable of being. At 45, I'm not supposed to feel old. But I'm learning that "feeling old" isn't really about age - it's about recalibration. It's about the body starting a conversation the mind hasn't been prepared to have.
The past year has brought unexpected health challenges - the kind that arrived without warning and demanded attention I wasn't planning to give. Nothing I need to detail here, but enough to shift the landscape. Enough to make me reassess what "capacity" actually means.
The mind still races ahead, full of ideas and commitments and projects. The body has started asking, "Are you sure about this?" And I'm learning that this question isn't a limitation; it's an invitation to listen differently.
I love WPLDN. The community, the late nights solving problems, the energy of bringing people together around something we all care about. That passion hasn't dimmed. But lately, I've found myself negotiating in ways I never expected. Not just with my schedule, but with my capacity.
Health has a way of forcing those conversations. Not as some dramatic revelation, but as a series of small adjustments that accumulate into something larger. A reminder that we're all operating within systems we don't fully control.
And that's been harder to accept than I'd like to admit.
There's something humbling about realising your limitations aren't just about time management or priorities. Sometimes they're simply physical. Sometimes the vessel carrying your passion is asking for different terms.
But here's what I'm learning: constraints breed creativity. When you can't do everything, you get better at doing what matters. When your energy becomes finite in a way it never was before, you start asking better questions about where it goes.
I'm discovering that sustainable passion looks different than I thought it would. It's not about the sprint anymore; it's about pacing. It's not about saying yes to everything; it's about saying yes to the right things with the full presence they deserve.
Some of this learning has been voluntary. Some has been imposed by circumstances I didn't choose - health challenges that arrived uninvited and reshaped what's possible. But imposed or chosen, the lesson is the same: limitations aren't failures. They're information.
The person in the mirror isn't who I expected to see at 45. But maybe that's okay. Maybe growing older isn't about maintaining who you were, but about becoming who you need to be next.
I'm still figuring out what that looks like. But I'm trying to approach it with curiosity rather than resistance. Because the alternative - fighting against the inevitable - sounds exhausting. And I don't have the energy to waste on that fight!