Turning 40 - milestone or millstone?

Sometime this month (I'm not revealing exactly when), I will be turning the Big Four-O. Unlike most milestones, this was one that I was not looking forward to. I'd always associated 40 with the start of ageing, when everything goes downhill. Afterall, 40 is middle aged, right?

Even as I'm creeping up to my birthday (despite my attempts to apply the brakes), I already feel all the signs. I turn bottles towards the light to read the faint lettering (muttering at the inconsideration of probably 20-year-olds who designed the bottles). When I miss a few sessions of exercise, it gets harder to return to the regime as my back aches in protest. And of course, where there used to be muscle, now it's flab.

It doesn't help that in Singapore, you're considered over the hill prematurely. Weeks before your 40th birthday, you'll receive an envelope from the government marked "Eldershield". Employers in Singapore notoriously favour the young. In most other parts of the world, 40 symbolises experience. Here, more often than not, 40 is associated with being outdated and irrelevant. Having spoken to many friends and ex-colleagues, it seems like the single biggest fear among workers in Singapore is to be retrenched at 40.

I know there are many sentiments out there which try to paint 40 as a coming of age. Quotes such as "Life begins at 40" and "40 is the new 30" are such examples. But I've always scoffed those as feeble attempts at self-consolation. I know the truth! You can't fool me!

Then a few weeks ago, my sister called to inform me that one of our friends from NUS had passed away from breast cancer. We weren't particularly close but she had stayed in the room opposite mine in the hostel. When I saw her laughing demeanor on the obituary photo, I felt a pang of regret. She was 39.

Every now and then, we are reminded of our mortality through incidents like these. Throughout history, people have tried in vain to look for the elixir of youth, to prolong what they feel is the prime of their life. But gradually, I'm beginning to realise that to dread growing old is to scorn life because ageing is an integral part of life.

My friend never saw her 40th birthday. It's sad not because she was struck down in her youth, it's sad because there was still so much more life to be lived. And that's what turning 40 should be - to have lived the first part of your life, and to embark on Part 2. That in itself should be a celebration.

So I'm not going to moan anymore about turning 40 because being able to hit this milestone is a gift. My eyes may not be as sharp and my body less sprightly but by golly, there's still a lot of life to be lived. And (with the help of a few jars of anti-ageing cream), I will try to live it as gracefully as I can.