Silver

“When did that happen?”
“What?”
“You’re going silver….” My son was frowning as he focussed on my hair in the winter sunlight as we watched the fish in the pond. I didn’t like to mention that I wasn’t the only one. There is white at this son’s temples and the younger one has already lost a fair bit of his hair.

Even so, the conversation took me back to a night when I was a young newlywed. We had been out with friends and had gathered for coffee at the end of the evening, and I, as usual, was sitting on the floor.

“Your hair’s almost white! When did that happen?” Kenny, sitting on the chair behind me, had been shocked. His wife had laughed at him and moved the lamp… the ‘white’ was just the sheen on my hair catching the light.

Life moves so fast. Memories that are still fresh suddenly seem to be decades old and, while I really do not mind growing older, it still seems odd, somehow, to think I will never be young again. ‘Young’ is an integral part of who I am, and ‘old’, for now at least, is something I am learning to grow into.  Both are part of me and I wouldn’t change that if I could.

We are constantly readjusting, both how we see ourselves and how we see the image the world mirrors back at us.  It is only a matter of perspective and perception after all. To some, I am still young. To others, I am already old. I remember my own mother being positively ancient to me when she hit thirty… which now seems far too young for her to have had a teenage daughter.

What others see on the outside… like the illusion of silver cast by the lamp… may be no more than their perception and may not be anything like the reality of what is inside. And I have to wonder about this whole youth and age thing anyway. We start off being ‘too young’, wanting to be older…until youth becomes a desirable asset, one to which we are encouraged to cling on to for as long as possible. We age regardless, until, instead of being ‘nowhere near’ that big birthday, to proudly announcing we are almost a grand old age.

Our lives are chopped into pieces by our perception of age and its relative value in society, yet every age, every moment of our lives is actually part of a single, natural process; we are alive. We tend to overlook the fact that it is a process, and that therefore every step is necessary and of equal value, from the first to the last.

There is that famous saying that ‘life is like a box of chocolates’, but in this case, I am not so sure that it sends the right message. Keep eating the things and not only will you get fat but the box will soon be empty, apart, perhaps, from that last one that nobody wants. At some point, you will reach for another and find they have all gone. That process can only end in disappointment.

Maybe life should be more like a rich wedding cake… carefully prepared from the best ingredients, slowly cooked and matured, decorated with beauty, sweetness and imagination, and the process not finished until the joyful celebration is over and every last crumb has been shared, leaving behind nothing but fond memories. I think I’d rather be a cake.

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
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74 Responses to Silver

  1. I think I’ll have the same 😉❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ritu says:

    I’d like to be cake too!!!
    It’s funny, just this weekend, I was chatting To my brother on WhatsApp, and he caught sight of my myriad whites….

    Like

  3. I think I’d rather be a cake too.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Darlene says:

    Maybe life should be a feast, with all kinds of good things and a few not so good, but everything should be tried and savoured. Because without trying, we will never know if we like it or not. Food for thought!! xo

    Liked by 3 people

  5. jenanita01 says:

    Over the years I have tried many different colours in my hair, but quite happy to have a messy silver mix these days…

    Like

  6. Mary Smith says:

    I’m with the cakes 🙂

    Like

  7. Annecdotist says:

    What a wonderful post, Sue! Although I used to henna my hair when I was younger, I haven’t tried to cover the grey. Because I’m quite small, I sometimes think I look like a cross between an old hag and an adolescent boy. As you say, life is a process, with different costs and benefits at different points. Although I’m not looking forward to being very old, my life’s improved as I’ve aged and become more comfortable with who I am. Silver is still worth celebrating, even if it isn’t gold.

    Like

  8. Lovely thoughts. And so true. But can I be cake and still dye my hair 😉 🧢

    Liked by 1 person

  9. fransiweinstein says:

    Hmmmm. You know those birthday candles you can’t blow out? You make your wish and blow and then a second later the flame is back? I’d like to be one of those please 😊

    Like

  10. Violet Lentz says:

    Very thought provoking write, but I must say, if aging is a cake, I believe it is a fruitcake. Its ingredients are primarily cut and dried and although it’s known for its longevity, no one really appreciates it’s cumulative flavor, nor wants to partake of it- if given any other option….

    Like

  11. Lovely sentiment, Sue. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Great post Sue. I’m peppered, but getting more so. I don’t mind. Hubby calls them my Rogue streaks.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Jennie says:

    Here’s to cake!

    Like

  14. rivrvlogr says:

    There’s no escaping old age. The gray in my temples forms a band above each ear, trailing to my ponytail. I can live with that. My beard is white. Actually, it’s a goatee, with the beard at 95% white and the mustache 25% white. I’m thinking of shaving it all off when the mustache goes all white. The problem is that my sagging cheeks will be more evident. One way or another, old age will have its way.

    Like

  15. Dale says:

    I’m with Darlene…
    And I’m not quite *there* yet and am still “on the bottle”… Many of my friends have given it up to go natural… we shall see. My grandmother dyed her hair until her death at 92…

    Like

  16. I came across my baby book recently. I am pleased to say my tresses are the exact same color as they were at my first haircut. But I am not delusional and realize that someday they will fade from blond to something less blond. Great post.

    Like

  17. I love your musings, Sue. My grandmother, at the grand old age of 86, told me that on the inside she was 18. I never forgot that wonderful revelation and think of it often as the years roll by – that physical age versus the soul/spirit age that resides inside me. Becoming a grandmother was a time of acceptance that my youth had finally slipped by and that it was time to embrace all the wonder, wisdom, and beauty that comes with age and experience. Gotta love it. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  18. Bring on the cake! ❤ xo

    Like

  19. Suzanne says:

    I like your thoughts on aging. It’s a topic I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. It is a process – I agree. In this culture of youth it is hard to sometimes find the relevance of old age though. I like the idea of it being part of the recipe for creating a wonderful cake.

    Like

  20. dgkaye says:

    I’m with you Sue, I’d rather be cake! Lol. So have you let yourself go grey? ❤

    Like

  21. Widdershins says:

    Yes! Cake and grey hair for everyone! 😀

    Like

  22. Eliza Waters says:

    I’ve always tried to embrace my current age and whatever it brings, but as the clock ticks on, I find myself sliding on a slippery path with no turning back. Acceptance, but never surrender!

    Like

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