Monday, 27 April 2009

The worst thing about middle-age is that you grow out of it. . .

The countdown to my 39th birthday begins. I've been reflecting, reflecting on time, goals, wishes, ambitions. I am not the kind of person who thinks much about the future, as in my experience it is not that productive an enterprise. I'd rather just live day-to-day: to 'keep passing the open windows', as the John Irving quote goes. To get through each day, in one piece, tattered rags of sanity still intact. Am I the only one who finds that in itself exhausting and gut-wrenchingly difficult?

I don't like thinking about what I wanted from my life, because it is like looking at a watercolour left out in the rain: blurry, obscure and diluted. I'm not where I wanted to be. I'm not even close. That's OK. Because that doesn't exactly mean things are shit, there is a lot I am happy with. I love:
  • my job
  • my house (despite the subsidence and lack of shower)
  • my friends
  • my crazy animal menagerie (especially little Hetty)
  • my Aunty Margaret
I hate:
  • my inability to make a relationship work
  • poverty
  • that I didn't have a family (see point 1)
  • missing my Dad and Mum so much
So. My birthday. What would I like for my birthday? I think I shall keep my wishes to myself. Whether they are fulfilled or not I just don't know. In the meantime I shall get on the best I can: focussing on my class of wonderful children and enjoying the grace and beauty present in every day.

Oh, the picture? Lily of the Valley, my favourite flower. They are also the flower for the month of May. Delicate, feminine flowers with a soft and modest beauty.

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