How I can tell I'm older than some folks on my friends list
This is a current meme:
If you're maybe noticing that you're older than you used to be, and are feeling sad/angry/confused/worried/frustrated that you haven't accomplished as much as you/other people in your present or past/annoyingly critical voices inside your head think you should have, and if you're maybe feeling something like "I'm not a real grownup like everyone else," and if you're maybe also feeling sad/angry/confused/worried/frustrated that your body isn't working the way it used to, and you're maybe thinking, "if that's true then how am I going to DO all those accomplishments that I/other people/voices in my head think I ought or want to do?", and maybe you're also wondering how are you going to dig out from under the accumulation of habit and procrastination and self-doubt to some sense of satisfaction in your life again, then post this same sentence in your journal.
I've seen that on several people's LJs now, so I'm not going to Name Names by saying who I actually lifted that from.
But each time I read it I get a sense of recognition. Not so much that I'm feeling older than I used to be, or that I haven't accomplished as much as I might have thought I would by now, etc.
No, what I recognize is that I *used to* think like that, fifteen or twenty or twenty-five years ago. Somewhere between my parents dying and buying the house I mostly grew out of it.
I *am* a grownup now, dammit. I'm an orphan so I have to be; I don't have grownups to take care of me anymore. What I haven't accomplished .. hey, I'm not senile yet. Some people in my family have lived to 90. I might have time yet for some of it. What I have accomplished isn't too shabby, either.
The main thing is this: *You're not too old to start doing stuff.* Maybe not everything, but some things. I was 41 when I bought my house, and 44 when we first got Internet access at our library. I went to my first science fiction convention when I was 50. My youngest sister is 51 and just graduated from college!
My hair is longer now than I've ever let it get to. Below my waist. Been wanting to do that since I was a teenager, and it finally got there. Part of me wants to keep it going, too, at least until it gets too gray. (Though neither of my parents got terribly gray until they got very ill with the cancers that killed them, and Dad was 78.) Then again, this kind of weather makes me wonder sometimes what I'd look like with really short hair. Marine short. Sinead O'Connor short. "Crew cut is too long" short. Meanwhile I'm working on learning how to braid it.
Some things, like gardening and the Internet, just keep getting more and more interesting. Technology is constantly changing (I've spent a lot of time this year learning how to do stuff with my new cell phone, like sending pictures from it via e-mail), but there's still lots of low-tech stuff to do, too. There are new books to read and new records to listen to, not to mention old ones to re-read or listen to again or catch up on, though you young whippersnappers may not think of them as "records" but as CDs or downloads or something. Heck, I remember when 33s were the hip new tech! There's ALWATS stuff to do around the house (which is the same age as I am). The bushes always need to be pruned and the grass, like my hair, has never learned how to stay short on its own. The cushions on the glider on the front porch need to be replaced, but slipcovered will do for now, and I bought some fabric toward that purpose that I'm in the middle of sewing up. Also, recently my garage door opener quit working, and I need to get a new one installed. By winter at least.
Being past menopause helps too. There's not all that icky stuff happening every four weeks (*if* it behaves itself and doesn't get off schedule) that you have to plan around.
Being 56 years old has definite advantages.
If you're maybe noticing that you're older than you used to be, and are feeling sad/angry/confused/worried/frustrated that you haven't accomplished as much as you/other people in your present or past/annoyingly critical voices inside your head think you should have, and if you're maybe feeling something like "I'm not a real grownup like everyone else," and if you're maybe also feeling sad/angry/confused/worried/frustrated that your body isn't working the way it used to, and you're maybe thinking, "if that's true then how am I going to DO all those accomplishments that I/other people/voices in my head think I ought or want to do?", and maybe you're also wondering how are you going to dig out from under the accumulation of habit and procrastination and self-doubt to some sense of satisfaction in your life again, then post this same sentence in your journal.
I've seen that on several people's LJs now, so I'm not going to Name Names by saying who I actually lifted that from.
But each time I read it I get a sense of recognition. Not so much that I'm feeling older than I used to be, or that I haven't accomplished as much as I might have thought I would by now, etc.
No, what I recognize is that I *used to* think like that, fifteen or twenty or twenty-five years ago. Somewhere between my parents dying and buying the house I mostly grew out of it.
I *am* a grownup now, dammit. I'm an orphan so I have to be; I don't have grownups to take care of me anymore. What I haven't accomplished .. hey, I'm not senile yet. Some people in my family have lived to 90. I might have time yet for some of it. What I have accomplished isn't too shabby, either.
The main thing is this: *You're not too old to start doing stuff.* Maybe not everything, but some things. I was 41 when I bought my house, and 44 when we first got Internet access at our library. I went to my first science fiction convention when I was 50. My youngest sister is 51 and just graduated from college!
My hair is longer now than I've ever let it get to. Below my waist. Been wanting to do that since I was a teenager, and it finally got there. Part of me wants to keep it going, too, at least until it gets too gray. (Though neither of my parents got terribly gray until they got very ill with the cancers that killed them, and Dad was 78.) Then again, this kind of weather makes me wonder sometimes what I'd look like with really short hair. Marine short. Sinead O'Connor short. "Crew cut is too long" short. Meanwhile I'm working on learning how to braid it.
Some things, like gardening and the Internet, just keep getting more and more interesting. Technology is constantly changing (I've spent a lot of time this year learning how to do stuff with my new cell phone, like sending pictures from it via e-mail), but there's still lots of low-tech stuff to do, too. There are new books to read and new records to listen to, not to mention old ones to re-read or listen to again or catch up on, though you young whippersnappers may not think of them as "records" but as CDs or downloads or something. Heck, I remember when 33s were the hip new tech! There's ALWATS stuff to do around the house (which is the same age as I am). The bushes always need to be pruned and the grass, like my hair, has never learned how to stay short on its own. The cushions on the glider on the front porch need to be replaced, but slipcovered will do for now, and I bought some fabric toward that purpose that I'm in the middle of sewing up. Also, recently my garage door opener quit working, and I need to get a new one installed. By winter at least.
Being past menopause helps too. There's not all that icky stuff happening every four weeks (*if* it behaves itself and doesn't get off schedule) that you have to plan around.
Being 56 years old has definite advantages.