Having a final poem launched by In Between Hangovers on the topic of aging has reminded me (cruelly) that like everyone, I’m getting older.
It was my 31st birthday on Sunday – and rather than dancing ‘til my knees fall off I spent it by the seaside, at heritage sights, and then at a delightful seafood restaurant – The Potted Lobster. These things filled me with joy and freedom, in the way that ‘throwing my arms in the air like I just don’t care’ used to do. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m still young really in terms of a working life, but being well and truly on your way through your thirties does make you think quite seriously about what you’re doing, who you are, and where you want to be. I’m usually quite calm about it, taking stock, and seeing bright things that I can plan in my future. Well – until I become suddenly aware of my own sense of mortality and I clutch at my chest – hearing my heartbeat and becoming too TOO aware of the gaps between each thump. Even now I’ve become a bit too mindful of my pulse.
Even when I was young I used to imagine leaving a legacy. It never occurred to me that I’d leave the world exactly as I found it. In truth, few of us will do that, even if it’s just because of the lives we’ve changed through relationships, having children, or even just inspiring one person to do something important. Legacies are left in so many ways. But I always wanted to leave something tangible behind, and as the years have gone by that tangible thing has started to take shape, and looks more and more papery and leather-backed. Perhaps I will leave words behind. Perhaps I’ll leave ideas.
I’m pretty near the start of this journey, I know. But I recently had some extremely good news that I’ll share in my next blog post. The anticipation is building…
For now, here’s a little poem I wrote (called ‘White’) shared on In Between Hangovers a few days ago. Please note – that I don’t actually have a rogue white hair sticking out of my forehead. Or do I…?