A year away is a long time. Too long. And still, if a friend had asked, I may not have guessed June 2017 was the last time I'd posted. The quality that time has taken on in the waning days of my fourth decade is wholly baffling. Weeks are plodding, laborious often, punctuated by long hours of feeling rather unproductive. Yet months switch from one to another in a blink, a snap, a skip, a hop, and here comes Christmas again.
This week marks six months until I turn 50. The big 5-0. Is 50 nifty? I have my serious doubts.
Those doubts, on good days, I find fascinating. Shared with my partner and a few of my closest friends, they seem a little less scary, curiosities that I want to learn more about. But then alone again with just my aching muscles, slowed memory, and growing unease about aging, the doubts muddle the mind and leave me in a fog of worry.
I am blessed with a good many friends from elementary, junior high, and high school, and try to keep in mind we are all in this together. A small few have tumbled already, or will spill later this year, into 50. The vast majority of us will do so in 2019.
In some ways it seems prudent to keep my worries and complaints about old age inside, to remain quiet. But that's not living a big life.
Writing soothes me and helps me do my best thinking. Writing also terrifies me (definitely more so with age) and so, in the spirit of kicking fear in the teeth, here I am, ready to think on the page and with you, readers and friends, explore this thing called growing old.
Ready to find the magic again in living a quiet but big life.
This week marks six months until I turn 50. The big 5-0. Is 50 nifty? I have my serious doubts.
Those doubts, on good days, I find fascinating. Shared with my partner and a few of my closest friends, they seem a little less scary, curiosities that I want to learn more about. But then alone again with just my aching muscles, slowed memory, and growing unease about aging, the doubts muddle the mind and leave me in a fog of worry.
I am blessed with a good many friends from elementary, junior high, and high school, and try to keep in mind we are all in this together. A small few have tumbled already, or will spill later this year, into 50. The vast majority of us will do so in 2019.
In some ways it seems prudent to keep my worries and complaints about old age inside, to remain quiet. But that's not living a big life.
Writing soothes me and helps me do my best thinking. Writing also terrifies me (definitely more so with age) and so, in the spirit of kicking fear in the teeth, here I am, ready to think on the page and with you, readers and friends, explore this thing called growing old.
Ready to find the magic again in living a quiet but big life.
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| A co-worker snapped this photo unexpectedly just after I told her the guy at the back table is one of my favorite writers. The pure joy on my face is a feeling I want to capture over and over! |
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