There have been some odd local events that have led me to consider how my age equates to some sort of life test. I am well and truly mid-30s. I see friends and acquaintances struggle with the waves of life that did not seem to cause a ripple in our 20s'. Serious illness, wayward children, schooling (where to go? Will it be 'good' enough?), aging or departed parents, the dreaded spectre of marital infidelity. It seems as I look around, that for many of my friends, the honeymoon period is over.
Isn't it typical of life's rich tapestry that when reaching some semblance of maturity, life chooses that exact moment to throw at us its toughest lessons?
I am conscious that I am at an age where the life choices that I have made are coming home to roost. The career choice; the dogged determination with which I maintain my 'working mother' role, holding down a challenging job and wanting to be there for school pick up simultaneously. I recite the mantra to myself 'you can only do your best' by way of comfort; but is this my best?
Then there's marriage. I am very happily married. I feel the need to state that point. However I also acknowledge that the happiness comes at a price. I married a man who works very hard and is ambitious and therefore, we find, is not home much. I married a man who loves rugby and therefore spends his Saturday afternoons running round a muddy field with other men! So here I am, with two children with whom I spend 85% of my time alone.
Similarly with material possessions. The more you have the more you seem to need; yet the grasp of what one really needs in life is loosening. It is possible to feed a family of four with careful planning and adept cooking, but if you have more to spend, you do. This then ultimately leads to waste. Waste makes me troubled; throwing away food or making meals that remain uneaten. The more worldly possessions we have the more we seem to need to update; 'get rid of the old'. But where do all of these old possessions go? Now that IKEA exists, arguably there is no need to keep hold of anything for future use as there is the ability to 'buy new'. Is the ambition that causes my husband and I to work so hard is to enable a better life misguided? I wonder this when the better life presents itself in all its glory - stressed parents, forgotten chores, mixed-up dates, lost admin (where is that much-needed bit of paperwork that was placed somewhere 'safe'?) I wonder what are we doing? Was this the plan? We spent the weekend running around like maniacs trying to get it all done in our 'days off'!
And so it dawns on me that in just a few short months I will reach my 37th birthday. Somehow as each year passes that increasing number surprises me; that reality has become true, I feel like I am forever 28 in my mind, it's just my body that betrays the fact. If not 28, then maybe 30. Yet I have to say I am happier in my own skin now than I have ever been. I recall reading articles where celebrities would say that their 30s were better than their 20s as they knew who they were, had discovered their style, they were 'at one'. I wasn't sure I believed them; being in your 20s must be better than being in your 30s? However now I am here I agree; I feel like I now know. I have learned.
What astounds me is how life proffers this learning in such an imperceptible way. As we go along there are things that teach us and mould us; is there ever an end result? Will 40 mean I am fully grown up? 45? This march of time and life fascinates me and I spend an inordinate amount of time wondering how I feel about it. What's it all for? Am I making mistakes as I go? How will I know? Will it be too late to rectify?
I am so much more self aware now than before. I am struggling to describe this without using the word mature, but when the cap fits...I do feel that I have matured into myself.
I don't expect answer to this - just putting it out there into the cosmos...in case it chimes with anyone...
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| via it's mary ruffle |
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