Life: Uh, fulfilled much?

So, Chai says to me last night, "Are you fulfilled?" It's a classic middle-age question and one that has come up a lot for us in the last few years. I can't say I had thought much about "fulfillment" before I hit my 40s. Maybe the only reason that I give it more than a passing consideration now is that there a certain amount of inertia that comes with being 20-some years into adulthood, a career, and a community.

OK, since one of my friends already got
mesmerized by all the skin and forgot my
love of irony, I should probably point
out that this is not actually my tattoo.

I mean ... years after having gotten that tattoo (which is now blurry and faded) and the body piercings (which never healed right), doing those protests and marches (which have yet to show signs of paying off), traveling the world (which yielded some equally scary and hilarious, fish-out-of-water moments), nearly failing out of grad school, and losing a friend to AIDS in my twenties; after the spin cycle of failed romances, the thousands of hours spent in therapy, meditation, and loneliness, a second graduate degree (this time, at the behest of my underserved right brain), the car wreck (in which my sturdy Chrysler P-body was totaled by a semi but from which I remarkably walked away), the ongoing years of physical therapy, the long-awaited flowering of a dear young person (who I had helped through a difficult adolescence and young adulthood), and the loss of my dog (my closest companion) of 17 years, all while still working full time in my thirties; only to close out the decade by actually finding somebody who wants me AND puts up with me, followed immediately by her diagnosis and ass kicking of Stage 4 cancer,  I'm tired. And, frankly, there's some really good TV on these days.




The sweet thing about Chai's question is that it came while she was doing a thing that is gratifying to her: working furiously on construction drawings for the renovation of this house in Detroit. Chai is a lapsed architect turned baker. She is literally designing us a future using the skills and experience she has acquired over the last couple decades. And I have to say that, so far, I've found this dynamic is emblematic of being in my 40s. That is to say, in having settled some of the old question marks hanging over my life, my free attention is available for something more--not "more" as in "I think I'll take up sky diving" more but a more-ness that includes and builds on what we already have in life.

And that's the thing about Detroit. The whole effing city is going through a mid-life crisis of sorts. Detroiters know (sometimes all too well) where they've been. They don't necessarily know where they are headed. But they are mature enough to not get romanced by grand gestures and unsustainable ideals. They pick their corner, fight for it, and build out from there. And, remarkably, a little does go a long way thanks to people backing each other up and cheering each other on. That's not the kind of fulfillment that I am going to find in another tattoo or another country checked off my list. In short, Detroiters have a lot to teach me about living with one foot in history and two eyes on the future.

So, am I fulfilled? My answer to her question: Not quite. But I am pretty damned sure I will be.

See you later this year, Detroit.

P.S. You are so gonna be a part of my life, Ruth Ellis Center and Detroit Dog Rescue. Jes sayin': Expect a call.