Today is my birthday. I am 59.
Several people have already reliably informed me that ’59 . . . is nearly 60′, followed by the inevitable—‘So . . . how do you feel . . . being nearly 60?’
Well, to be perfectly honest, I hadn’t really thought about it much (so thanks for the reminder guys) but now the question has been asked I am a little surprised to find there are actually quite a lot of things about being ‘nearly 60’ that I really like.
For a start—I like still being around. Many people aren’t so fortunate so I view 59 years as somewhat of an achievement in itself.
I like that things that caused me a good deal of worry or angst or upset in the past now barely give me a moment’s pause. (It’s taken a while but I have finally worked out that, while some things really do matter—many, many more really, really don’t.)
I like that I am far less concerned these days about how I look (or, perhaps more honestly, how anyone else thinks I look) and am now far more interested in how I feel.
I like that I am entirely comfortable in my own company and I can choose to participate, spectate, or entirely forgo (‘thanks, but no thanks’) without also feeling the need to elaborate on my choices with long convoluted explanations (or excuses).
I like that I have learned to never miss an opportunity to do absolutely nothing. (Some may call that bone idle. I prefer to think of it as a life choice.)
I like knowing that, while it’s definitely okay to follow the rules, bending (or even breaking) one every now and again can be a lot of fun . . .
. . . and I like the fact that finally accepting some things really are absolutely and totally beyond my control has done wonders for my sleep. (And, if I do still have the odd restless night, a nice little nap the next day is entirely appropriate anyway.)
So, all said and done, I am feeling pretty good about this birthday, and if you should come across me sometime, standing in the street, gazing blankly upwards, please don’t be alarmed. It’s not my advancing years taking a toll on me. I have not forgotten where (or who) I am.
I am merely taking a moment and altering my aspect to the sun . . .
Sunflower (Helianthus Annuus)
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When I pulled into my driveway a couple of days ago I was greeted by a large—and extremely rowdy—flock of pink and gray galahs foraging for their supper on my front lawn. I am not sure whether they had been rowdy for as long as they had been there, or whether they just became so when I drove in, but they certainly weren’t backwards in coming forwards in venting their feelings about my untimely intrusion . . .
Sally says . . . eat, sleep, work, read, play, draw, bark . . . 