"I gave him everything" she said while looking towards the sunset.
The red sky, the blue ocean and the waves rolling and rubbing agains the shore.
"Not everything?!" he asked with emphasis on the word everything.
"I gave him my hart" she replied
The wind pushed through the trees and pulled with it a rain of red atumn leaves.
"Oh" he said, "Then you did give him everything..."
Tuesday 11 November 2008
Friday 7 November 2008
"And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years."
What is age? What lies in the years resting behind my eyes? What will come as I continue to age, losing my youth day by day?
I am 27 in just a couple of days. Though it is in many ways just a number at this point, it is also a point were I find it natural to look both back at the past, and forward to a guessed future, contemplating on life. Especially my own.
A friend of mine told me the other day that I had nothing to worry about. Turning older should be no threat to me since I had everything one is supposed to have at the age of 27. “You have the love of your life”, she said. “And now you two are building your home together. Soon there will be kids. You have nothing to worry about. “
It was not as much as what she said, as what she did not say. Had she something to worry about, being the same age as me, and not having these things? Does happiness and fulfillment mean nothing when measured in age? Is it only achievements that counts?
Love? Check!
Home? Check!
Work? Check!
Kids? Check!
If you check all the boxes before turning 30, you have nothing to worry about but growing old? Is that maybe the only dignified way of aging?
What about friends? Family? Music? Art? Dancing? Laughing? Living? Freedom? Self worth?
As the clock strikes and the big handles points at 27 or 30 or 25, is it time to leave the ball and glass slippers and grow up? And if you don’t, you only grow old?
It seems that my friend and I differ in our views on this point, but somehow we both think and focus on what we don’t have.
Me, I think of youth. That blissful time with no worries. I wish I knew then what I know now, and wasn’t in such a hurry to grow up, grow old. To get the house and the office job, and the pet, and the car and the man. Don’t get me wrong, I love the man to pieces, and eternally grateful that I have found him, and he me. But I still regret the things I should have done. Sometimes it feels like I never went to the ball at all.
But still I must conclude that I am happy. I am living my life as best I can. And a good night cream for my skin will maybe help the wrinkles starting to form under my eyes….
“Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.” ~Samuel Ullman
I am 27 in just a couple of days. Though it is in many ways just a number at this point, it is also a point were I find it natural to look both back at the past, and forward to a guessed future, contemplating on life. Especially my own.
A friend of mine told me the other day that I had nothing to worry about. Turning older should be no threat to me since I had everything one is supposed to have at the age of 27. “You have the love of your life”, she said. “And now you two are building your home together. Soon there will be kids. You have nothing to worry about. “
It was not as much as what she said, as what she did not say. Had she something to worry about, being the same age as me, and not having these things? Does happiness and fulfillment mean nothing when measured in age? Is it only achievements that counts?
Love? Check!
Home? Check!
Work? Check!
Kids? Check!
If you check all the boxes before turning 30, you have nothing to worry about but growing old? Is that maybe the only dignified way of aging?
What about friends? Family? Music? Art? Dancing? Laughing? Living? Freedom? Self worth?
As the clock strikes and the big handles points at 27 or 30 or 25, is it time to leave the ball and glass slippers and grow up? And if you don’t, you only grow old?
It seems that my friend and I differ in our views on this point, but somehow we both think and focus on what we don’t have.
Me, I think of youth. That blissful time with no worries. I wish I knew then what I know now, and wasn’t in such a hurry to grow up, grow old. To get the house and the office job, and the pet, and the car and the man. Don’t get me wrong, I love the man to pieces, and eternally grateful that I have found him, and he me. But I still regret the things I should have done. Sometimes it feels like I never went to the ball at all.
But still I must conclude that I am happy. I am living my life as best I can. And a good night cream for my skin will maybe help the wrinkles starting to form under my eyes….
“Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.” ~Samuel Ullman
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