Dear Prudence,
August 26, 2025 is forty five days from my 45th birthday, which is more or less the mid point of my natural lifespan.
When I was born, I posed with my great great grandmother Kitchen, great grandmother Leona, grandmother Joyce, and father Mitch for a five generation picture. Twenty five years later, Leona was 92 when baby Lil appeared in another five generation picture. My grandmothers Joyce and Phyllis are still living today at age 91, almost 92.
I am generally more concerned with good health than my elders, though they had the advantage of growing and aging in a less polluted world.
This is all to say that pending accidental death, chances are high that I will live to be at least 90 years old.
I am thinking about generations and legacy these days as a coping mechanism to escape the moment-to-moment horrors of living in America. When Palestinians are slaughtered, I hurt too. When Americans are swept off the street and cities occupied by National Guard for no valid reason, I am policed too. When reason ceases to be persuasive, history is erased, and basic needs programs are eliminated, I feel helpless and hopeless.
So I zoom out. If I feel powerless to directly resist a fascist narcassist, what can I do that will outlast him? What have others done in other times like this? Deluded, power-hungry men have unleashed chaos to destroy others and elevate themselves on the regular, of course.
I think about planting trees, designing the meanders. Trees could outlast me, could host generations of insects and mycelia that build entire ecosystems beyond the scope of human vision.
I think about making art and writing. The products of creative practice can both tangibly exist well beyond the artist’s life, and intangibly impact those who witness the work.
So as I’m approaching this probably middle of my life, I reflect about the first half of my life and wonder about the second. I graduated college, raised a child to adulthood, married, own a home, and have a career. Even if I wasn’t fully intentional about whether the American dream was truly my dream, by age 45, I’ve done it.
What’s left to do? If I’m just half way there, and it feels like I’ve lived a whole life already, how do I want to design my second life?
I want to stop thinking about things like planting trees and making art, and DO. I want the second half of life to be freer, bigger, and more intentional. I want to be present for my family, enjoy all there is to enjoy, and celebrate defeat of all the fascists – bound to lose.