But mom, where’s the tuna?

“Mom, why are you eating my food?”

I’m sharing cans of tuna with my cat.

What? Did I really just admit that to you?

Whatever. It’s true. Here I am, in Mexico City, one of the greatest cities in the world, and at 9:30pm on a Friday I am shelling out half a can for her and half a can for me.

Aren’t you, um, vegan? You might be wondering?

Well yes, I am, but I have been known to tuck into a good piece of fish on occasion. GOOD fish, meaning I am pretty picky about the stuff. So the fact that I am eating tuna (which I generally don’t eat) out of a CAN (which I absolutely NEVER eat) is really out of character.

But to be honest, I’m doing a lot of things that are out of my character right now. 

And I think it’s because I don’t really know what my character is anymore.

As of late, my awareness of aging has become highly acute. Not in a “I’m getting old!” kind of way but a “This life thing is going a little faster than expected, and also, I look different” kind of way. As well, the idea that I’ve outgrown the life I’m living has become a weighted blob sitting smack in the center of my forehead. 

I’m sort of not sure what to do with this information. As I near 40, I realize my youth is slipping through my fingers like that sparkly white Miami Beach sand (I’m talking about the kind they clearly transport in from the Caribbean). My skin doesn’t seem as bright, my recoveries are longer, I certainly can’t eat as much as I once could and this has all become apparent in a very short amount of time.

I’m changing.

All these thoughts and feelings about my life are swirling so rapidly that, despite my dedicated meditation practice (I am currently on a streak of 172 days in a row at the time of writing) they are exhausting me and slowing me down. I find myself alone for days on end, and voluntarily so. Now that I’m here in Mexico, I don't know what places are “my style”. I don’t know what feels too immature and what feels too, well, geriatric. I don’t know who is too young to hang out with and who isn’t. I don’t know if that shirt belongs on a Gen Z-er or if this outfit is overly conservative. I’m stuck in this crevice between young and middle-aged, a modern-day Goldilocks who doesn’t know what “just right” is supposed to feel like anymore.

Tonight I took a beautiful yoga class. At the end of savasana, we were put into a 15 minute guided meditation. At one point, the instructor mentioned something I’d heard before, but hadn’t thought about in some time. Emotions aren’t bad or good. They’re there to tell you something. As I sat with this, I got it! MY emotions are simply telling me that I’m growing. I don’t have to know this or that or that or this. All I have to do is experience this transformation without judging myself for it. My job is to enjoy this crazy ride. When did I forget?

I left the studio with an overwhelming urge to phone a friend. (Another thing I tend to forget. I can talk about this with another human.) And for things like this there is ONE person I know I have to call.

But instead of phoning her, I’m just going to see her. Down at the end of the earth, in glorious Patagonia. 

I’d LOVE you to come. Jenny Sanchez & I will be ready to turn your little world topsy turvy with an unforgettable trip hiking over mountains, swimming in glacial lakes, sipping wine in Argentine vineyards and eating homemade ice cream on organic farms. 

Oh, and yoga. 

You’ll even get bonus bits of wisdom from our joint years dedicated to this practice and laughter from our mutual upbringings in the sarcastic northeast.

I may not know if this crop top is too junior for me (sike, I will NEVER give up crop tops) but I do know FOR A FACT that you will NOT regret signing up.

So, come to Patagonia with me!

Send an email for more information.

With love,

Bethany