Today is my 50th birthday. It even sounds old to me. But I am not old. Seriously. 

The first thing that pops out of people's mouth when I tell them my age is "you look ten years younger." Which I may. Or they may are just being nice. I certainly don't act old. I'll never forget walking into the house with a new Cake CD a few years back and Abby asked "are you 14?" In some ways yes. Or more like 28.

For some reason though 50 seems to be a pretty significant birthday. In the past it was the sevens that caused me great reflection. 27, 37. Those years made me realize that I was moving into the next life stage. The five oh. Tick tock baby. By all reckoning my life is half over. It's enough to make a guy want to go out and buy a Porsche. Not me.

I am pretty darn satisfied with the direction my life has taken. I have:

• A great wife;
• Two super kids;
• Health and fitness (taking a little knee injury out of the equation);
• Time with energetic, smart, and young people;
• The choice to work on things that I find interesting;
• Love for the industry I am in;
• Atlanta, a great place to live.

At the risk of a trademark infringement suit, life is good.

Old? No. Hell no even. I don't feel that way. I attribute this to a few things. Two of my stated life goals certainly have an impact.

Continue to learn. Read regularly and pick up new crafts, sports, or topics.  Seek out new adventures in life.

Exercise regularly at least three times per week.  Keep fit and at my appropriate body weight.

These things keep my body and mind engaged.  

And over the past four years I have also been able to spend some time on broarder generativity. Which basically puts me around a lot of young smart energetic people. That stuff rubs off. It stems from and builds my sense of optimism in humanity. I am pretty sure I am heading toward ego integrity.

But the clock is ticking. On my 50th birthday, more than anything else I feel a sense of urgency. A sense of urgency to do more, to do better, to do good.

And I will get to all that. But for the moment I am going to celebrate. Abby threw one killer surprise party for me when I turned 40. Maybe 100 people. A big shocker when turning on the lights in the house after a long cross country flight on a Friday night. She asked me what I wanted to do this time around. I told her I wanted to have parties like a ten year old, lots of them with lots of family and friends and cakes and presents.

I might be 50 but I am still a kid.