I cannot say precisely what it is I like about being this age. Perhaps I feel more serene, more confident, less concerned about what others might think. Perhaps I have so much life experience under my belt now that I no longer feel easily flapped. I have noticed that I have never felt this emotionally stable but simultaneously free. It isn't perfect of course. Nothing is. I'm still irritable and impatient. I'm not at all impulsive these days, really the very opposite. I have become very methodical, meticulous, self-disciplined and routine oriented. Almost to the point of wondering at times if I might be a bit obsessive compulsive. Every morning it is the same deal: shower, clean my apartment, make coffee, eat breakfast, go to work. I make sure I walk no less than five miles a day, up to ten if I can pull it off. I get home, make dinner, do the day's paperwork, eat dinner while listening to the World at Six on CBC Radio One, write something spectacularly predictable on this here blog, watch a video in Spanish after hearing a lot of As It Happens, then listening to the profound wisdom du jour on Ideas, then off to bed by ten where I read myself to sleep, usually a novel in Spanish. The next day it is the same old, up between 5:30 and 6, and so the day after, and the day after...
When I was younger this kind of repetitive routine would have been hell to me. Now it is heaven. It is very grounding. It helps me keep my ducks in a row.
Self-discipline, you know. Don't even think of aging without it.
I have also become particularly bloody minded and I quite enjoy this. Today I noticed a young twenty-something woman standing timidly on the curb while traffic went by. Knowing that she could well be standing there till she reached menopause I simply ventured out into the traffic, signalling at the oncoming car that they had better stop or there would be consequences. The young lady felt a bit emboldened and just as she left the curb I mentioned to her that sometimes you have to make them stop. Then, later this afternoon, sick and tired of the noise coming from the restaurant playing music downstairs, I simply went down and asked them nicely, or rather told them nicely to turn it down, which they did, for a while anyway till likely a customer insisted that they crank it up again. I am nagging city hall about them and I expect that something will be done about it.
Generally, I just don't feel pressured any more about anything, even though I am under more professional pressure than ever. It just seems to roll off of me. I really don't know how this has happened though I am sure there is something spiritually and godly at work here. In the meantime I wander down beautifully treed and gardened streets and parks like a drunken grinning idiot, revelling in the glory of nature and this magical season of life called spring when I'm not talking on my phone in Spanish to my voicemail, my imaginary friend named Fulano (Spanish for What's Its Face), and giving thanks for every moment, unless I happen to be avoiding inhaling second hand cigarette smoke from some bonehead self-destructive addict. I am constantly doing art, drawing in my sketchbook in coffee shops and painting on canvasses at home. It isn't all bliss, I have had my health concerns, but the grumpy moments seem to be pretty short-lived these days.
Every moment is a blessing even if I happen to be miserable at the time and I don't want to ever forget this. Life is too short.
I am determined to make this last.
No comments:
Post a Comment