“Age is not important unless you are a cheese.” Years ago I cross-stitched this. At the time I was dating someone, who ended up becoming my husband that constantly complained about our age difference.
I did not see any sort of issue, being the youngest one, him on the other hand, had an issue. But then men always have issues, thus I rest my case.
On the eve of my birthday, one that is too close to the 60’s, an age range I don’t feel comfortable nearing, this cross-stitched canvas is staring me in the face. Actually, I have it on my kitchen wall. Kind of appropriate with the cheese and all. But in reality I am starting to feel like a cheese.
Why is it hitting me so hard? Well, I am getting older, in number that is. Society with all the stigmas of age and beauty has a way on getting under my skin. Maybe under all of our skin. I heard somewhere that 60 is the new 40. Maybe there is some truth to that, or maybe someone is trying too hard to justify aging to themselves that they want the world to feel the same.
From where I am sitting I still feel that there is so much left in me. So much life, so much still to do, and so much still to see. I have two continents that I have not explored yet. have enjoyed traveling the Northern hemisphere, but never set foot in the Southern hemisphere, this is on my bucket list. And why is it that my bucket list gets longer by the year? Is it my fear of kicking the bucket?
I remember when I was close to turning 50, someone told me to wait and see what was in store for me in my 50’s and I would learn to say “I do not give a flippidy uoh” (ok, I cleaned it up a bit but you know what I mean). She was so right. I started caring less and less of what people thought of me. More and more cutting the dead wood of complacency around me. I am happier now than I ever have been. Don’t take me wrong, I enjoy the advice of other’s but only when I ask for it. Whatever judgement other’s have of me, it is so irrelevant to me. And yes, it is about me now.
It is my life and my life to live, and I learned that late in life but I now have a chance to make that count, make it matter. Like the cheese, the longer I stay in one place without moving, without fresh and innovating ideas, the faster I become old, stale, and with no life left to enjoy.
Therefore, if the 60’s are the new 40’s, I am excited to see what the last few years being in my 50’s, or shall I say 30’s, will bring. As well as, what’s in store for me coming into my 60’s, sorry, 40’s. Bring it on because I am not ready to give it up yet and definitely will not slow down, even if I have to beg my body to follow once in a while.
As we say in France: It it not because I have one foot in the grave that you have to stomp on the other. I guess “Sun City” can wait and kiss my rind.