I’ve always been fascinated by balance.
Not the kind you find in a yoga studio or a checkbook, but the kind hidden in nature, art, and architecture — the Golden Mean.
Mathematicians call it 1.6180339, artists call it perfection, and philosophers call it harmony. It’s the ratio that makes seashells spiral just right and cathedrals feel timeless. Somewhere along the way, I realized my life had quietly found its own golden balance — not in numbers, but in love. Her name is Jen.
The Measure of a Moment
November 10th marks Jen’s 50th birthday — a milestone that feels both mathematical and magical. Half a century of laughter, wisdom, grit, and grace. I’ve thought a lot about what to give someone who already has everything that truly matters — a life built with purpose, a heart that gives without keeping score, and a joy that radiates balance in its purest form.
She’s not one for limelight, fanfare, or cameras. In fact, if she had it her way, she’d quietly treat it as just another day on Spaceship Earth — basically the exact opposite of me. Maybe that’s why finding the perfect gift felt impossible.
The truth is, Jen doesn’t need more things. She deserves moments. So instead of wrapping paper and ribbons, I chose to gift her experiences — a choice of three monogrammed, wax-sealed letters, each holding a different adventure waiting to unfold, whenever she decides the timing is right… and whenever (if ever) she chooses to share it with the world.
The Next 50
I wasn’t there for her first fifty years — the childhood stories, the triumphs, the trials, the chapters already written. But I’m here now, and I plan to be here for the next fifty. Together, we’ll write our own equations of laughter and late-night talks, of quiet mornings and loud adventures.
There’s something poetic about reaching this stage in life and realizing the most precious gift isn’t found or bought — it’s time. More of it. With her.
If the Golden Mean represents perfect proportion, then maybe this — us — is life’s version of it: equal parts past and possibility, reason and romance, order and spontaneity. The balance I didn’t even know I was searching for until I found her.
Here’s to the next fifty.
To choosing love, every single day — by design, not by default.
She has a small wooden block on her bookshelf that reads:
“There is no perfect life, but we fill it with perfect moments.”
That feels like the truest Golden Mean of all — not symmetry found in numbers, but in the way two lives meet in balance, in laughter, in love, and in the everyday moments that make fifty years feel like forever’s just getting started.
