My favourite days are when the sun is out but it isn’t hot, and the windows are open, with a breeze blowing the curtains.
Autumn and Spring, my favourite seasons.
Everything is still green and the air is full of hope and promise. In Autumn, relief from the suffocatingly stifling heat; in Spring, relief from the bitter disconnecting cold. The cycle’s end before new beginnings.
Life is so much about seasons and cycles. I turn 45 in exactly a month. For me, it is a big birthday. It is a marker between 40 and 50; after this birthday I will be closer to 50 than 40. I love that.
I love the shock that generates, firstly in myself and then in others. I don’t look 45 and I don’t act as old as 45 sounds.
What is an age though. Really.
One of my students told me that their parents have said, make the most of your school days because they are the best days. I was saddened by this. I don’t agree with it. I don’t think it should be true.
My best days thus far are now. And they will continue to come.
Aging inspires wisdom, when we choose for it to. It inspires greater control and burgeoning choices, when we choose for it to. It inspires the magic of moving forward in directions we choose.
Women become more anonymous as they age I think, and ironically, it is when we are at our very best.