As my 54th birthday approaches in November, I find myself slowing down, and taking stock. I have been doing a lot of deep reflecting lately — not just on where I have been, but on how I appear to others. Is what I truly mean coming across the way I intend it to? That question matters to me, because I want my heart's intention to be clear. I am not a soldier anymore, and I am not a policeman. Those things are hard to switch off. All my life I have been driven to be a certain type of person — a sheepdog, for lack of a better term. I wanted to represent the things I hold dear: goodness, grace, mercy, discipline, humility, and the honesty to admit weakness. But I will be honest: there were times I was performing that role more than living it. I wanted so much to be that person that I sometimes lost sight of who I actually was underneath it. I can walk into a room full of people from any walk of life and adapt. I fit in. But I have come to realise that being able to be everything to everyone can leave you feeling empty inside, because you are not sure what remains when the room empties. Losing my career and my sense of purpose through injuries took a great deal from me, and I am still working hard to answer a simple question: who am I now? It is a journey, and I do not have it figured out yet. I have been in some very dark places in my mind, and I know I can still go there on days when my discipline slips. That is why I am grateful that I can catch myself now, and self-reflect before it goes too far. It is hard some days, but the ability to notice is something I did not always have. Seeing people in this community open up, be vulnerable, and let others see a personal side of them has taught me something important. To do that takes real courage. It is a big deal, and it is hard to do. It made me want to be more honest here, in the hope that sharing my own experience might lift someone else up. That is the purpose I am holding on to now. I will admit something I hate admitting: I am slowing down. I see men ten, fifteen, twenty years younger than me and I catch myself asking why I cannot keep up with them, what is wrong with me. The truth is simpler and harder: nothing is wrong with me. I am slowing down, and I have to accept that. I have also had a great deal of loss to deal with recently, and I do not think I have fully accepted it yet. I have been pushing it away. At some point I will have to face it, and I know that.