I was shot out of a canon from the University of California, Berkeley, and into my first job as a cub editor for The San Francisco Chronicle at 21 years old. By the time I was 22, I had founded a public relations agency specializing in helping companies market to the Boomer generation. This consulting practice grew over the decades, becoming one of the top independent firms in the country.

When Boomers started hitting midlife, clients and the media stopped addressing the interests and needs of our generation of women. Determined to fill the void, I founded the self-help organization “Superwomen’s Anonymous,” a pioneer of the simplicity, life balance and business consciousness movements. I did my best to walk my talk, co-raising with my husband our growing children while becoming a voice in the national media, including The Today Show, Oprah and People Magazine.  Subsequently, I wrote fifteen books translated into 13 languages on issues geared to our generation’s concerns and interests as we advanced through the decades. One of my favorites is The Silver Pearl, which I co-authored with my good friend Dr. Jimmy Laura Smull, and which enjoys life as both a trade paperback and an abridged interactive online version exclusively on this site. http://www.vibrantnation.com/the-silver-pearl

Coming full circle, I returned to marketing sensing that the time was ripe for business and the media to rediscover the power and potential of our generation of women as we transit midlife and beyond. I worked for several marketing companies and co-founded  the first initiative by a global PR firm dedicated to helping companies market to the Boomer generation. Now, I call VibrantNation.com home. Here, I happily and enthusiastically serve as Senior Strategist, where amongst other duties, I blog regularly at “Inside the Nation.”

I am often in awe of the universe’s grand plan, which has somehow ultimately made more sense of all the twists and turns my life has taken over the years than I could possibly have planned out on my own. I now live in Los Angeles with my beloved husband of thirty plus years and my Yorkie-Maltese, Lucky-- and relish my extended and growing network of family and friends.  I also twitter, by the way:  www.Twitter.com/CarolOrsborn.

How did you get to where you are now?

The easy answer is: one well-meaning decision at a time. Some were good, some not so good -- but each one represented the best I could bring to the party at the moment. In other words, I have been working hard over the years to develop compassion for myself and others -- a trait hard-won for a perfectionist who spent the first half of her 60 plus years believing that if only I worked hard enough, tried hard enough, and lost those last ten pounds, I could master my life.

Of course, life had other plans for me. Whether it is the subject of career, family, parenting, health or relationships, I’ve been to the peak of the mountain and into the void numerous times. Somehow, I always bounce back -- and usually a little higher than the last go-round: which does, in retrospect, represent some kind of progress. In fact, if there is any trait that has served me best to help me get to where I am now, it is my ability to learn from my mistakes. And another, closely related: my belief that this is a loving universe and that somehow, it’s all good.

How do you see yourself differently now than you did 10 years ago?

Ten years ago, pursuing my Ph.D. in religious studies at Vanderbilt, I was at the same time undergoing and recuperating from a life-threatening illness. While others stressed over their studies, exams and dissertation, I was praying only to remember always what a gift life is. I recall taking long walks with friends, smelling flowers as if for the first time, radiating love to my kids, husband, professors and, if I remember correctly, total strangers.

As it became increasingly apparent that I was going to live, fully recovered, I began losing some of the spiritual glow. Everyday life -- with all the responsibilities, stresses, expectations -- came trickling, tumbling then ultimately gushing back in. My prayer, to remember that life is a gift, has now become my mission: not so much a goal as it is the ground of being from which I operate. Having experienced so many extremes, I am full of paradoxes: stronger and more vulnerable; more compassionate and better able to set boundaries; full of faith and far more discriminating; living for the moment and more aware of mortality.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

On a good day: When projecting into the future, I remind myself that I will still be me. I love to read, write, think, teach and mentor -- and I expect to be doing so ten, twenty and maybe even forty years from now. For better (and sometimes for worse), I love giving advice, unsolicited or not. I’m sure I’ll be “working,” but already, the line between work and passion has become blurry, indeed. I imagine that ten years from now, I’ll be that much wiser, proficient and valuable—and that there will be an increased demand for what I have to offer.

My family and friends have only become increasingly important to me over time. By then, I will have grandchildren (my son and his wife are pregnant now) and see myself surrounded by love and laughter.

Not that I won’t be dealing with some diminishments. But that’s nothing new. I remember when I turned 35 and needed glasses for reading for the first time. I cried a bunch, realizing that once something like the ability to read without glasses is gone, it may not come back. Of course, I adapted. Now I think of my glasses as a fashion statement.

I have an excellent model for all this, by the way. My sister-in-law is exactly ten years older than me, and full of vitality and life. In fact, her greatest asset is her ability to laugh at herself. Ever since she came into the family, she has been a way-shower, always ten years ahead, and always lighting the way. I hope to do the same for the younger women in my life—and world.

On a bad day: Pry the 401k statement out of my fingers, pass the hanky, and uncork a nice bottle of wine.

Greetings from the new frontier, where I am journeying through previously unmapped territory, both in my heart and world.

You would love it here--although much of it is so unexpected. I do love an adventure, though--as long as I have the right supplies, and, of course, the faith that it will turn out alright in the end.

Thanks so much for the gift of the flashlight that functions in the darkest voids--and I still have the flag you gave me to plant the moment I finally reach the top of the mountain.

Thanks, too, for all the hard work you put into making this trip possible. And please don't worry about us so much. We're going to be fine.

Love,

Me at 61

May Sarton, Joan Chittister, Maya Angelou, Jimmy Laura Smull and all the women writers and seekers of meaning at midlife and beyond, who demonstrate that in terms of becoming wise, time can be our greatest ally.