Old Lady?

When the heck did I get a wattle?

This can't be me!

Surely I am still 15?

Life in January

January is my month of birth.

I will have completed 54 years of life as of January 29th.

I am not sure what to feel about my encroaching senior citizenship. Should I be glad that I still feel (and some say look) about 10 years younger.

Or.

Should I be freaked out by the actual number of years I have lived and by the fact I still feel so inexperienced.

It is a strange thing to feel like I should be more formed and finalized than I do. I do not think I am alone in feeling this way. Or Maybe I am!!

As a child I looked forward to the day when everything in life was set and perfect. The adult life of ease and being able to make the right decisions.

Somewhere along the line I began to realize that that day had not arrived yet. And still has not.

In my 20's I knew I still had lots of time to achieve perfection.

In my 30's I was part of the creation of 2 perfect babies but I still had not reached that point of completing me.

In my 40's I was actively trying to find my life's passion (other than hubby and children).

Once reaching 50 I finally found my creative and work passion. (Can anybody guess what it is?)(a slap on the wrist to those who know me and don't know!)

And yet at nearly 54 and having found my passion I still feel inexperienced. Life still takes work. I was going to say Happiness takes work but that is not right.

Let me try this... Acceptance of the direction life has taken takes work. Even when there are really fabulous elements in my life there seem to always be more to learn and experience.

Somehow this is making it sound like I am unhappy with my life. I am extremely happy with my life but it is different than what my 15 year old brain imagined. I suppose that,as children, most of us think we will be the ultimate best at whatever we chose to be. But so often, even for the most successful people in the world, we don't end up feeling that way.

So....

Why is that?

Is it the need to learn and continually improve oneself that keeps our neurons firing and keeps us feeling young?

Should I just accept that this state of incompleteness that I feel means that my life will remain interesting and compelling?

Maybe instead of worrying about my inexperience I should rejoice in it.

Maybe that should be the aim of life. To never feel complete until the moment before death

because

once there is nothing left to learn there is nothing left but boredom.

And

Who wants to be bored?

Hmmm...

I have decided....

I should be glad that I still feel (and some say look) about 10 years younger.

Inexperience is good.

It means you are still alive and kicking.

My Hands

My Hands they are the Tools of my Trade. (from Laura Smith - I'm a Beauty on Vanity Pressed - a Collection CD.)


My Hands are growing older along with the rest of me.
There are times I look at my hands and don't know who they belong to.
I am looking at my Mother's hands. When did I get my Mother's hands?
When did time betray them? When did the scars, bumps and age spots appear? When did arthritis start to turn my fingers and cause me to feel pain?











I see the hands of an older person.
How did this happen?
Somehow they grew old while I was busy having a life.





















Then I see this photo taken by my daughter's hands. It is of my Sister's and Mother's hands.
My Mother's hands at 80 years of age.
I realize now that when I look at my hands I see the hands of my Mother's 50 year old hands. Her hands have had 30 more years of life than mine. Think of the things those hands could tell mine.


They tell of a life fully lived. Of things created and work long done. Of wisdom and experience. Of risks taken and opportunities explored.

Do I still want the pristine hands of youth? Hands that are unwise to the ways of the world?

No not really...

I want to see the life I have lived in my hands. To remember the creations I've made, the babies I've rocked. I want to feel the aches and pains (I lie!!) that have resulted from not wearing rubber gloves while I do dishes and knitting for 8 hours straight or forgetting to wear mittens on the coldest day of the year.

I want the memories.

I want those memories to temper all future actions taken by my hands.

I want my hands to create new memories, feel new textures, give strength to others for as many years as possible.

My hands are the tools of my trade and my life. I will embrace their aging appearance.