Discussion piece: This is a post about being in your forties and aging.
I have never thought much about aging. When you are in your 20s and 30s, you feel invincible. You’re young and you have the world at your feet. Getting old feels like a million miles away.
My twenties were a blur. A series of bad life choices and many mistakes. I squandered those youthful years doing what? Overstaying in a relationship that I should have left, three years earlier. But that is another story for another day.
My thirties was about picking up all the broken pieces of my last decade and trying to figure out who the heck I was and where I wanted to head in life. They were the least glamorous (and somewhat really lonely) times of my life. But it had to be done.
But, the moment I approached forty, my outlook on life just … looked a little different. I felt as though my time was (fast) running out. Like there was some weird urgency about it.
I’ve noticed the odd gray hair here and there and this is one reminder of fleeting youth. Well I kinda got the inkling when I was fast approaching my mid thirties. Now, it is a confirmation.
I am – slowly understanding the true meaning of “40 is the new 30”
It’s the time to shed old skin and grow new ones.
At forty two approaching forty three, I am a lot more comfortable in my skin. I am less offended by thoughtless comments that get thrown my way. I’ve had to learn not to take things personally, understanding that people tend to project their internal feelings outwards. But what surprised me about being in my forties is: how blunt I can be at times. I have not always been this way. But I think the amount of crap that I have had to deal with in life and in work, has just changed the way I see life.
I am – a lot more health conscious as well, not by choice but I think by (body design). Recovering from any muscles aches from exercising just generally slower recovery time. But this is part and parcel.
Can I include the topic of – changing bodies: Weight gain. It’s not moving unless you are exercising. No dieting is going to shift those baby phat! I am also – noticing the odd gray hair here and there. A confirmation that I am (in fact) getting older. Those bags under my eyes that were not there and somehow, just magically appeared. And … The other day, I thought (when looking in the mirror) the skin around my neck was sagging. Am I getting a gooseneck? I know it sounds vain but …
Reality can (at times) be a cruel taskmaster.
My parents used to mention in passing about their own little private fear of aging. But the way they phrased it, they made it seem like it’s just a passing remark. But in fact, it is a deep seeded fear. The ability to not be able to look after yourself and the loss of indepence. They can wreak havoc on one’s psyche.
And there lays the conundrum of time –
It became very pointant that there is – less time on this earth and the thought that I may not be able to accomplish everything I want (or would like) to do kind of scares me. I am … no longer shielded by youth and ignorance.
So, I have decided that …
Everyday is going to matter.
It is not too late to work on my balance and mobility so that I am not a burden on my family.
That …
All the mistakes that I have made along the way was a collection I could access and use to help me navigate the world. That, the things that we thought were a setback are actually set up for a later date. I am now more thankful for the small things in life that I could never appreciate in my youth and early adult life. I suppose I wanted to grab life by the horn and run wild with my new sense of “freedom”.
Do I wish I had more time? Sure. But I also don’t want to live with regret. That’s a bitter pill to swallow. I’d rather just do it and change course accordingly.
I’m going to take perfectionism to the opportunity store and donate it. It has caused me so much anxiety that – I think I could do without it. I’m ok with being blemished. It gives me more room to be a risk taker. I want to experience things that I was once afraid to try.
This is what being forty something has taught me. In saying so, I still don’t want the wrinkles or the gooseneck, or the gray hair. But it looks like they are a packaged deal.
A ruminating Heart 