"And Then The Day Came...."

"...when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

That's a quote from 20th Century author and Uber Feminist Anais Nin, whose pithy sayings I've been using as Facebook status updates all this past week. Until recently, I had vowed not to obsess over the run-up to the Big 5-0. I was determined to treat turning 49 as no different than turning 39, or 43, for that matter. Age ain't nuthin' but a number, and all that rot.

But for some reason, this last year of my forties is starting to feel ominous--in a good way, if that's even possible. Or maybe I mean "momentous." After all, even though I think I'm still in great shape for "my age," the last pretense of chronological youth gets obliterated when you enter your fifties. There's no denying half a century. "Young at Heart" and "Old at Ass" do NOT mix.

So, the reason that Anais Nin quote seemed appropriate this morning is that in about 3 hours, I'm heading to the Maasai Mara. I have lived in Kenya more than 2 years, and never been to this internationally-renowned tourist destination, where the splendor of nature overwhelms most visitors. I've listened to at least several dozen tales of expat visitors' incredible trips there, but never made the effort to go myself. (One new Canadian acquaintance has lived here 5 months, and been to the Mara three times...and is going twice more before the end of the year!!) That's partly because of work distractions, but there've been too many empty weekends to make that a completely credible excuse.

Full disclosure: The main reason I haven't been is because I haven't had anybody to go with. Seriously, it seems like the kind of thing you'd want to experience with a close friend, or ideally, a lover. God, I've travelled to so, so many amazing places by myself, mostly for work-related reasons, and I guess I was resisting doing the Mara out of some deeply-rooted hope that I'd meet an amazing guy and we'd go together.

But with another birthday comes another possibility that tomorrow is not promised. Yeah, I know that sounds kind of maudlin, but really all I'm saying is if I wait for the perfect time and the perfect conditions to witness the spectacle of the Maasai Mara, I could miss out Big Time. Hell, if nothing else, my contract here could run out and I could find myself back in the States sitting behind a desk and wondering how the HELL I lived in Kenya 3 years without visiting the Mara, when a dozen of my US friends and acquaintances have been!

And so as much as I really, really don't like to take vacations by myself, I'm taking the plunge. After all, when you think about it, life really is sort of like this picture of the Wildebeest crossing in the Mara. A lot of thunderous, clattering migration towards...a cliff you plunge into and can't get out of. Ergo, "death." But until that day, if you can make the journey interesting, you've accomplished a great deal.