My son, we have established, thinks I am regressing. So when a friend posted a bit of daftness on Facebook last night… a ‘what’s your mental age’ quiz, my initial response was, “About three, according to Nick.” Then, of course, I clicked and joined the fun.
According to this bit of silliness, I had a mental age of 29. Which undercut most of my friends considerably and I wandered off chuckling at the ensuing exchange of comments to answer the phone. It was my son.
It goes without saying that I had to tell him he was perfectly right. I was regressing. I awaited the inevitable riposte. He is, he says with deathly seriousness (and an odd, laughing quiver in his voice) quite worried about this situation. As he gets older, and I get younger. After all, he said, I have been his role model for years and years and he has (only metaphorically he stressed) looked up to me. The mental and emotional upheaval of having to look down on me in ways other than the physical could be severe and traumatic. Though, he said, there are already moments when he is aghast at odd things I say or do…
Personally, to borrow a much abused word from his generation, I think that’s awesome.
I have no problem with growing older. Life can write its story on my face and body, mapping experience and adventure as it will. I would not choose to return to the angst of the teenager, the insecurity and fragility of the younger me. I rather like the assurance and serenity that has come with ageing, as I have learned to be comfortable in my own skin. Even the bits that are not quite where they used to be.
I could, I admit, live without the aches and pains, but then, they make me appreciate the good days more, and also make me slow the pace of life to a speed where I can take time to savour it. Sometimes. Well, occasionally.
If you had asked me thirty years or so ago I would have probably imagined myself by now very much like Auntie Gwen… a ramrod backed, well upholstered Yorkshirewoman, wielding severity like a sergeant-major, probably with a rolling pin.
Yet instead I have, it seems, developed a penchant for mischief. Not that I lacked it before… just that I would have simply wanted to do things and lacked the courage or feared disapprobation. Now, I don’t give a bugger. Winter waterfalls, laughter and snow… rollerblades the other day… and tonight we climbed trees, the dog and I. Well, I did and she watched with her head on one side and a long-suffering expression. I’ve wanted to climb a tree all week for some obscure reason.
I have mentioned before the process of life being stripped back over the past year. With the corresponding growth of the work with the School. I don’t think that is a coincidence somehow. Nor do I think it coincidence that as we work with the levels of Being, I am growing into mine. There is something in what we do that feeds the soul in a curious manner and opens all many doors within. Life has taken on the vivid hues of our robes.
There is a time for silence and a place for dignity. In ritual and meditation, other doors open, though the inner bubble of joy seldom subsides. But in the outer world I shall simply go with the flow and grow old disgracefully.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Yay, now I understand the tree thing, sorry just getting to blog rounds. Regressing I have to say ” Awesome” 😀 i was walking done the street the other day and came across a hop scotch thing some kids had made and without missing a beat(kind) shuffled my way throught , lol, never “grow old” just get older.
Best wishes,
Benjamin
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Yep… I couldn’t have resisted either 🙂 Haven’t played hopscotch for years….. hmmmm… 🙂
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This is wonderful – I love it!
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Thank you 🙂
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🙂
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I have to agree with you… I would not want to go through those teenage years.. My life after fifty is much more peaceful and now I can do what I want when I want… My kids also think I never grew up…
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Then we have succeeded in combining age and the wisdom of children 🙂 (sounds better than senility 😉 )
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😀 Still laughing at the idea of the expression on Ani’s face when all this was going on… and the thoughts going through her head can only be imagined! lol
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Well she’s not the only lunatic around… 😉
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There is a song that would fit this post beautifully. The Gogol Bordellos “Start Wearing Purple.” If I could learn how to post videos in comments I would have. I loved the mischief and the urge to climb trees. He he he he. Great stuff.
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It has to be done, you know 🙂 Most of my house is purple… though only because the paint was available 😉
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Having been a follower of your blog over the last year, Sue, I think it’s clear that you’re at a wonderful stage in your life. All of us are getting older day by day, but that doesn’t at all mean we have to become dull or severe in our habits. You clearly have a lively sense of fun and take great joy from continuing to learn about the world around you.
I have to agree with you wholeheartedly that being older is better than being a teenager. At least, that was also my experience. I was so shy at that time, I was virtually invisible. I strongly suspect a number of the teachers in my high school were quite surprised at the end of each term when they were confronted with a report card with my name on it that they were supposed to fill in.
It’s not that I’ve become massively outgoing since then, but I will, for example, strike up a conversation with a stranger when I’m out for a walk. That’s the kind of thing I would never had done thirty years ago. 🙂
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Shy or not ( and I am still) I’ve always talked to strangers… they are just friends waiting to make themselves known sometimes 🙂
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That’s a good way to think about it. There are some very nice people out there. 🙂
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There are indeed, Bun 🙂
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Why does growing old disgracefully sound so much more fun than just growing old? I’m not sure growing up is in my vocabulary either.
xxx Massive Hugs Sue xxx
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You took that phrase straight out of my head, as I decided a while ago that I would grow old disgracefully. So at every opportunity, I always look for the funny bits. I can get quite disapointed when I don’t find any, so usually try and rectify the situation best way I can!
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There are usually some oddities that can raise a smile in most things, I find. Even if the thoughts have to stay in your head 😉
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Reblogged this on Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie.
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How wonderful Sue. Keep on climbing trees! I agree growing old disgracefully runs in our family and I’m not about to break the trend.
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Some traditions must be preserved at all costs, Marjorie 😉
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Definitely!! 🙂
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🙂
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I think it is wonderful that you are still climbing trees and growing old disgracefully. Good for you, Sue! 🙂
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I am feeling the need to do so again, I have to say 😉
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Ha HA! Good for you, got for it! 🙂
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I will 🙂
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A post after my own heart, Sue! The older I get, the more I become myself! I will certainly not go quietly into the night, that’s for sure 🙂 See you in the treetops…
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Pass a squirrel and throw me a nut 😉
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😀
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The trick is not to grow up, and not forget to dance. 🙂
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NEVER forget to dance! 🙂
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!!! 🙂
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