I like to think of myself as a budding middle-ager disguised in a maturing body. But the truth is, I’m closer to the final chapter than I am to the middle. And lately, fragments from past chapters are flashing before me as if I were conducting my own life review. I’m not in crisis or breaking down. But questions linger in the back of my mind like an intruder, showing up at the most inconvenient times. What Do I Really Believe Now? The reality is that I’m no longer in the middle of life. I’m not even at the top of the mountain, looking back at the rocky ascent. I’m…