My acupuncturist tells me that in Chinese medecine and culture this time of year is the time of reflection. I suppose that makes sense. Spring birth, summer maturity, all leading to the finale in winter.
I turned forty this year. I can't say I was particularly bothered by this fact, it certainly didn't feel like some momentus entry into middle age. Infact at the time it was the least of my worries because I was hallucinating, and feeling drunk all the time because of the drugs I was on.
When you go on a fortnights holiday, it seems like you still have forever the first couple of days. I suppose now I'm into my second week, and time sees to be whizzing past at a great speed.
I've written before that I've lived my life by the maxim that I'd hate to be on my death bed and have any regrets, and I can honestly say I haven't had any really, I've been blessed with a wonderful life.
I don't really know what I'm wittering on about really. I suppose it started yesterday when I watched a DVD I'd been given for Christmas. It was a concert of the pop group Blondie, a band I used to adore when l was a young teen. I was lucky enough to go and see them on my fifthteenth birthday, after I'd won a competition.
This concert filmed a quarter of a century ago, seemed like another world. The audience looked alien, even though I still know every word of all the songs, the people looked so old fashioned. I suppose people older than myself think the same way about the music of their youth. It still seems fresh, even through the passage of time.
The scarey thing is the lead singer Debbie Harry is exactly the same age as my Mum, a fact I remember teasing her about at the time, though she still looks good for her age, as does my Ma if she's reading this! Another strange thing is that at the time I was teasing my Mum about her and Debbie Harry, the girl every boy at school fancied,, my parents were six or seven years younger than I am now. The only difference was they they were 'grown ups', with a family, a business, and responsibilities.
Perhaps I'll feel grown up when I'm fifty. On the otherhand perhaps you never feel grown up. It might just be your body that shows signs of age, but inside you keep part of the child that is/was you forever.
I turned forty this year. I can't say I was particularly bothered by this fact, it certainly didn't feel like some momentus entry into middle age. Infact at the time it was the least of my worries because I was hallucinating, and feeling drunk all the time because of the drugs I was on.
When you go on a fortnights holiday, it seems like you still have forever the first couple of days. I suppose now I'm into my second week, and time sees to be whizzing past at a great speed.
I've written before that I've lived my life by the maxim that I'd hate to be on my death bed and have any regrets, and I can honestly say I haven't had any really, I've been blessed with a wonderful life.
I don't really know what I'm wittering on about really. I suppose it started yesterday when I watched a DVD I'd been given for Christmas. It was a concert of the pop group Blondie, a band I used to adore when l was a young teen. I was lucky enough to go and see them on my fifthteenth birthday, after I'd won a competition.
This concert filmed a quarter of a century ago, seemed like another world. The audience looked alien, even though I still know every word of all the songs, the people looked so old fashioned. I suppose people older than myself think the same way about the music of their youth. It still seems fresh, even through the passage of time.
The scarey thing is the lead singer Debbie Harry is exactly the same age as my Mum, a fact I remember teasing her about at the time, though she still looks good for her age, as does my Ma if she's reading this! Another strange thing is that at the time I was teasing my Mum about her and Debbie Harry, the girl every boy at school fancied,, my parents were six or seven years younger than I am now. The only difference was they they were 'grown ups', with a family, a business, and responsibilities.
Perhaps I'll feel grown up when I'm fifty. On the otherhand perhaps you never feel grown up. It might just be your body that shows signs of age, but inside you keep part of the child that is/was you forever.
