Growing Older

Good Lord. Look at the calendar. I have no idea how we got from January 1st to November 29th 2015 so freaking fast.. Sci-Fi is more believable these days than is the way years whiz by anymore!

 

 

Yes, this means I’m growing older. We all are. Many of us simply don’t acknowledge it until a full year consumes a minuscule 1/50th or more of our lifetimes to date or we start getting complimentary  issues (at first) of AARP Magazine... or something else equally traumatic occurs to remind us that we’re no longer spring chickens.

 

Am I upset that more of my life has passed than the amount of time I have left?  Not even remotely.  Although I’ve had a relatively easy time of it (when compared to the vast majority of the rest of teeming humanity that shares the planet with me during this time), it hasn’t been easy, by any stretch of the imagination.  It will be a relief to not have to figure out how to make ends meet and get through the year every single year for all eternity. It’s nice to know there will be a definite end to the struggle.

 

This doesn’t mean I’m depressed or suicidal. It just means I’m more grateful than I am fearful of racing–at what feels like breakneck speed–toward my final curtain!

 

I’ve pretty much done everything I came here to do, as far as I can tell (unless there’s another book in me that can make another’s life a little happier, more successful, or easier).  There isn’t  a lot on my bucket list that I haven’t already done. I’ve always had a pretty small bucket and have worked almost daily (including weekends) toward accomplishing everything in it.

 

I’m spiritual. I don’t know for sure what’s waiting for me next (if anything at all)–nobody does, everybody is guessing, wishing and hoping!–but I know it probably isn’t awful. It’s either nothing or something that will reassemble my atoms and send me sallying forth again in some new, amnesia-laden guise. (I don’t remember where I was or what I was doing before I was born this time, and I half expect that this will be the case after I die–although I have received definite visitations from perished loved ones a time or two–all amazingly positive–so I’m keeping an open mind, for sure!)

 

I’m  a Christian (that is, a huge fan and follower of Jesus; although the newly-concocted far right Christian mythology sucks the big green turnip these days) but much of what I’ve come to know about the so-called “infallibility” of the Bible makes me decidedly suspicious of much of it. So-called holy scriptures have been used to marginalize women and people of color since time immemorial, and no God of Love, Mercy and Grace that I know of would give the ill treatment of other human beings a resounding nod of approval.  (“You know you’ve created a God in your image when He marginalizes and hates the same people you do.”)

 

I don’t know where I was before my present incarnation and I have no idea what comes after this one.  If nothing, I’m good with that. If something–I hope I get launched with more belief in myself than I got this time around because it took me a helluva long time to recognize my abilities and prowess and learn to ignore the naysayers so I could proceed with the march toward my destiny.  I took naysayers’ opinions as gospel truth–and most of them were  pronounced by cruelly-crippled people whose upbringings and environments had pounded hope and optimism right out of them.  I wasted a great number of my earlier years trying to fulfill other people’s goals for me rather than following my own compass–which, as it turns out, was 100% accurate!

 

We’re born with inner compasses. We know, early on, right where we fit in.  We just  get knocked around (like  the ball in a pinball machine) by others who do their best to divert us to “safer, saner, more stable” (less satisfying) pursuits–usually ones that fulfill their innermost needs and desires at the sacrifice of our own. We’re told that what we want to do will be too hard to achieve.  (Everything worth doing is hard to achieve. That message will dissuade no one who is determined to succeed!) We’re told we’ll starve to death. (I’m living proof that that’s a lie!)

 

Growing older is a privilege denied many.  What’s even sadder, though, is knowing that growing older is so often accompanied by regrets–regrets not of commission, but of omission.  Happily, I can say that I don’t suffer from many regrets of omission.  I’ve followed my intrinsic blueprint and gone over, under, around and through all of the roadblocks that appeared (or were placed) before me.

 

My only regret is that I didn’t start believing in myself and my dreams a lot sooner.

 

But it’s never too late.

 

So get going if there’s anything on your bucket (or legacy) list that you still want to do! Growing older may not be an option, but right now–this minute–you’re still alive and you can act!

 

Go get ’em, tiger!