some things

Some things are worth revisiting. Today a conversation reminded me of a favourite poem, copied in this blog post from May 2008.

The conversation, as so often happens here, turned to beauty, aging and our aversion to botox, lifting, or any other such things. A skype video call revealed that I have cut my hair quite short, and while I like it and feel perfectly ok about the new look, my neighbours simply look, their mild shock registering on their faces, and they politely refrain from comment in my hearing.

My equally wrinkled friend with an even shorter haircut said "I felt a wonderful freedom when I stopped worrying about what other people thought about me. If they don't like what they see then they are the ones with the problem, because I am perfectly happy with how I look".

Freedom. It is a wonderful word. Freedom to be oneself, without being judged, shackled, assessed in any way. Freedom to be unaffected by the comments, the thinly veiled criticisms.

Tonight as I look out from my studio to the historic village, or across the hundreds of lights to the towns on the other side of the valley, I feel free. Free to appreciate, to enjoy, to feel wonder at what I see.

I am not quite ready to wear purple, but I will soon be a "year" older. In actual fact, when my birthday arrives, I will only be one day older than I was the day before.

But I do, quite often, wear my slippers outside when it has been raining.

When does the "third age" start? I think I have to wait another year. And until then, I shall cut my hair when I like, wear it as short as I like, and let it be as silver as it likes. And the wrinkles? Well, if every line represents ten years of laughter then so be it. Laughter is, after all, the very best of medicines.

Today I am grateful for courage and independence.