I turned 60 today.

And gosh, do I have some mixed feelings about that.

I love the life I’m living right now and I desperately miss parts of the life I’ve lived.

I adore all the people I’ve gathered along the way and I achingly wish I had more time and energy for so many of them.

I am so proud of (most of) my 60 years and I am more than a little excited and apprehensive about the years ahead.

And underneath all of that is a tremendous amount of gratitude.

For the people who have loved me, taught me, forgiven me, encouraged me, and made room for me in their lives. For opportunities I could never have created entirely on my own. And for a Heavenly Father whose goodness and guidance have been a through line in every single (no pun intended) season, including the ones I didn’t particularly enjoy.

I know how much of this life I’ve been given.

Love, gratitude, pride, satisfaction, grief, longing, apprehension, curiosity.

All of these emotions get to come to the birthday party.

Which brings me, naturally, to a limpet. 😉

Years ago, someone gave me a children’s book called Sally and the Limpet, written and illustrated by Simon James and published in 1991.

It features a little blond-haired girl named Sally who finds a limpet attached to a rock while exploring the beach.

Sally decides she’d like to take this particular limpet home with her. So she pulls it off its rock.

Well, the limpet promptly attaches itself to her finger. AND WILL NOT LET GO.

Her father tries to pull it off. Her brother tries tempting it with lettuce. They even end up at the doctor’s office, where various attempts to remove the thing prove unsuccessful.

That limpet is STAYING PUT.

Eventually, Sally learns that limpets can spend years living on the same rock. And when she realizes she’s taken this little creature away from its home, she feels bad enough that she takes it back to the beach.

Where, wouldn’t you know it, the limpet finally lets go.

Now, if you’re unfamiliar with limpets (as I was), they’re small, snail-like sea creatures with cone-shaped shells that cling to rocks along the shoreline.

They live in what’s called the intertidal zone – the stretch of shoreline that’s underwater at high tide and exposed to the air at low tide.

These little creatures spend their lives dealing with crashing waves, changing temperatures, drying sunshine, and predators. And they manage all of that by attaching themselves VERY firmly to rocks.

Some species of limpets have a very specific place on their rock that they return to again and again.

The limpet ventures away to feed, scraping algae from nearby surfaces, and then somehow finds its way back to that exact little spot.

And over time, the limpet’s shell gradually conforms to the contours of its resting place. In some species, the repeated contact and movement even wear a shallow depression into the rock.

Scientists call that little resting place a home scar.

Eventually, the limpet and the rock fit together so precisely that the limpet can settle into its familiar spot with an almost custom-made seal.

Years of returning, resting, venturing out, and returning again have left an impression.

On the limpet.

And on the rock.

We grow up, move out, make friends, lose friends, start jobs, change jobs, build families, change routines, change cities, develop new interests, face unexpected challenges, and find ourselves in circumstances we never imagined.

Returning. Resting. Venturing out. Returning again.

All of that motion can be exciting and interesting and exhausting and SO awesome and SO difficult.

And we sometimes underestimate how much those familiar places sustain us, and how having something worth returning to can give us a little more confidence to venture out again.

Here are a couple of questions worth asking ourselves:

• Am I making room for both venturing out and resting well? Am I so busy moving forward that I’m neglecting the things that sustain me? Or have I gotten a little too comfortable and could benefit from trying something new?

• Where do I return when I need to feel steady? What people, places, routines, or beliefs help me feel grounded and connected? Am I giving them the attention they deserve?

Today I find myself especially grateful for the people, places, beliefs, and experiences that have given me somewhere to return. 

I’m curious about where I’ll venture next, and I’m hopeful that, like that little limpet, I’ll keep finding my way back to the things that matter most.

I can’t wait to hear about the things you keep returning to, and where you might be ready to venture next. And if you could use a little help finding your rhythm between the familiar and the new, I’m your gal. Let’s talk. I have some extra cake. 

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PS If you liked this post – or any others, I’d love you to pass me and my work on to a friend.  They can find out much more about me here if they’re interested!