Random thoughts from an older perspective, writing, politics, spirituality, climate change, movies, knitting, writing, reading, acting, activism focussing on aging. I MUST STAY DRUNK ON WRITING SO REALITY DOES NOT DESTROY ME.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Aging Lazily and Crazily.
Three Dog Night - Shambala
At times, it seems to me I've been returned to being a child again.
I'm catching up on all those years of sleep deprivation with a career and single motherhood, etc. Within limits, of course. As I do have municipal and other duties to fulfil. But one of the bonuses of my age is that I can sleep when I want and nearly where I want. For who pays attention to an old woman's nods?
I can also read. Any time. I would squash in reading for pleasure on weekends and before sleep. Now I read over breakfast. I try to get in 100 pages a day. And I toss books that bore me. I don't feel any obligation to them whatsoever no matter how "good" others think them.
And knit: I knit not out of necessity but out of interest and the old fire in the soul. I can make crazy things, like door and window worms.
And write: when, where, how I want.
And speak my mind. I really don't give a rat's anymore what you think of me and my feminist, atheist stances. My beliefs are solid now. Honed on the whetstone of my life experiences and pain.
I get time to grieve. Even over things like the keyboardist, Jimmy Greenspoon, from Three Dog Night that I tried to imitate on my own piano back in the day. He made me fly, dance and sing and base one of my own unpublished, unperformed musical dramas on one of his pieces. And it seems like I pull in all the other grief of this 2015 on top of Jimmy and do it all over again in a series of tidy sob packages. Who sees and who cares?
I've come to the conclusion that I really like my own company and at my age that is a good thing. I am comfortable with my own vibrations.
I can amuse myself for hours just putzing around this old place which will never be featured in Good Housekeeping. Ever.
I like the no rules aspect of it all, the freedom.
The priceless freedom of my days.
I've never been more ME.
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I came to the same conclusion a while back. I revel in all ghe aspects of old age to which you allude.
ReplyDeleteScroll through my poems; I've written about this very subject. And will again. Freedom.
I will simply say ditto to everything except the knitting part. I watch movies instead.
ReplyDeleteMarc:
ReplyDeleteI scroll through your pieces a lot, sometimes I comment but I hear you on the freedom!
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Ramana, I am very lucky indeed, I watch movies and knit at the same time :)
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And here's me thinking it was just me. Happy St Patrick's Day by the way. If you want a chuckle I think you might like the Rubberbandits, a pair of lads from Limerick who have made a name for themselves first in Ireland then took the Edinburgh Festival by storm. Try a couple of minutes of Rubberbandits Leprachaun hunting on YouTube for the day that's in it. xx
ReplyDeleteThanks Enna! Will check. And backatcha!
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I love your blog....and this post is a perfect example of why! I've struggled a bit lately with the fact that I'm turning 40 next week, as ashamed as I am to admit that. But then I read your blog, and I see how rich life can be on "the other side of 60" and I feel encouraged about getting older. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteps...plenty of time to read and nap sounds WONDERFUL! :)
Aw Jennifer - thank you so much, I am so very happy that I am reaching your demographic - the only decade I despised turning was 30 for some reason. I went through the five days (!!) of turning 30 in a complete blackout, I thought my life was over, and it was barely beginning!
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Ah, the no rules aspect….I really don't want to be responsible for anything, but I think God isn't letting me go on that one yet.
ReplyDeleteDKZ - but the reward is heading your way, I suspect!!
ReplyDeleteLiving alone has its upside :)
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Your self-confidence is impressive. I can't claim to be as comfortable in my own skin, partly because I'm still working and my personal freedom is somewhat constrained. Perhaps that will change when I finally give up work and I can do exactly as I please.
ReplyDeleteWWW, totally agree with your sentiments. My problem: how to get over the guilt of being able to do exactly as I please day after day! Freedom, it's incredibly wonderful!
ReplyDeletemargaret
oh me
ReplyDeletethe last 5 lines
surely me
and even more of your words
just wish I could knit
and you lived near :)
continue onward....
I read about the young one
turning 40 - oh my and I just hit 80.
My unhappiest years in my 40's with divorce
and then it happened
as onward I traveled
I became really "me"
Well said. I tried to let others make me feel "odd" and now I just let them go on one path and me another. So much more restful for all of us.
ReplyDeleteI'm comfortable in my skin and with my own company, but I have been on my own a long time now. Seventeen years, next month. Just came across this little nugget and it is just right for this post:
ReplyDeleteLife is ironic. It takes sadness to know what happiness is.
Noise to appreciate silence, and absence to value presence.
Nick I do wonder at times if being partnered limits the capacity to feel free and unencumbered? I mean there's the downside of financial challenges but the upside of a day of fun without needing the blessing of another? Just musing....
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Margaret - I sometimes have those thoughts too. Like I should be doing something "important."
ReplyDeletebut then I say "eff it, I earned this." and think about rotten bosses and 20 hour working days.
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OWJ:
ReplyDeleteI wish you lived nearer too :) but aren't we lucky to live this long, when so many don't, to finally fold into the skin of the people we were always meant to be?
I lost so many friends who never made it :(
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Judi: I remember one time overhearing by accident being described as "Crazy **** by one family member to another.
ReplyDeleteI remember feeling so very disconnected and so hurt. A total oddball in my own family where I should feel safest of all.
It is good to not give a tinker's curse anymore :)
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A lovely maxim, GM, and never truer!!
ReplyDeleteThank you.
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I don't want to wish my life away, but I do look forward to those things about retirement.
ReplyDeletelove this blog....Its fun to not give a shite.....
ReplyDeleteSAW: I never thought it could be this much fun.
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Anon:
ReplyDeleteYay 4 u 2!
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Just discovered your blog ... and also discovered, that I'm well on the way to not walk on egg shells all the time anymore ... PS: Turning 60 in December, hopefully does that me a member of this lovely thought inspiring club? Love, cat.
ReplyDeleteWWW, you just might be one of my favourite people.
ReplyDeleteI'm not yet at the point where I *don't* give a shit what anyone thinks, but I've known all my life that I *shouldn't* give a shit. Does that count? And I really hope one of these days I *won't* give a shit what anyone else thinks of me; then I will consider myself as wise and strong as I aspire to be. I keep saying "I'm fifty-friggin-six; if I can't be and do what I want by now, when WILL I?" So I try hard to be true to myself and try to have no regrets about past beings-true-to-myself that I now look back at sometimes and think oy, I really wish I'd listened when someone told me to give my head a shake, back then. But anyway ... all that to say you give me hope I can get to where you are.
Amen to all that.
ReplyDeleteIsn’t that what ageing is al about? Pleasing your damned self anyway you damned well please.
Perhaps we are fortunate in that we don’t have to turn every penny, that we have food, shelter, warmth, many old people don’t, but, apart from that, I have been thinking along the same lines for a while now.
Something went wrong with my previous comment, it cut me off before I’d finished.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, from one ageing woman to another: here’s to what’s left!
You are still young Wise! Speaking from 81 I can only say it gets better as you get older! I think it would be even better if there was a hand to hold when necessary though. I see had holding couples walking by the lake and they look truly blissful. Take care,
ReplyDeleteBetty
that was supposed to be "hand" holding - of course!
ReplyDelete^
ReplyDeleteAny ages at all m'dear are more than welcome.
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Kate I truly think we only learn from experience and when our voices have been stilled or stifled for so long the victory of finally speaking our truth is sweet indeed.
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Friko;
ReplyDeletenow that we have found it never let it go, right?
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It must be my inner cynic Betty but the cost of that hand holding can be a huge price tag.
ReplyDeleteBut an occasional comfort I would not say no to!
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Hmm. I think my last comment went astray.
ReplyDeleteAnyway: It takes a long time to realize that one is actually, and for the first time in one's life, free!!!
Enjoy!
A very long time Hattie!
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