I Love Being Over 40 (Okay, way over)

Would you like to be twenty again?  Seventeen?  Not me.  I can remember being that young and thinking how awful it must be to be old.  Old meant 40 then.  But the truth seems to be that new gifts come with the years and I don't mind being older.  All those insecurities my younger self struggled with--would someone love me, was I pretty enough, would I be successful, was I good enough, would I have enough--those aren't issues for my older self.  I remember when seeing a single black hair on a female friend's face or knee and thinking how horrible, that I would never let myself get that way.  I'm that way and beyond and I don't care.  I go out without make up, go to the gym with bedhead hair and I never wonder if people are looking at me.

Growing older means embracing imperfection. I have wrinkles and in places my skin just doesn't fit right.  Not a pretty sight. But to me it's better than an acquaintance I saw recently who seems to be fighting the aging process.  Botoxed and fillered to the point she looks plastic.

But it's all a surprise to me, that I'm loving being the age I am.  My mom used to say that getting older was horrible. Not so far, but I know part of my positive view is that I have good health.  I working harder at that too. I want to enjoy the heck out of whatever years I have left and that means being healthy.  So my money's going to prevention and my time to keeping fit and eating right.

Part of being happy with getting older is attitude.  Not just the getting older is better than the alternative kind of thinking.  But true gratitude.
Having been a people pleaser, I'm grateful that now I'm okay with being myself, spending time alone and not going to dinner with people I don't want to go with.  I'm grateful I'm not spending time giving talks that scare me to death because I need to do it for my career.  And I'm especially glad I no longer wonder if the good looking guy I met wants to go out or commit.  I don't worry about a date for Saturday night and I don't have to wear any more bridesmaid dresses.  I don't bake for hours on the beach nor do I get spray tanned.  I don't take a bad haircut seriously anymore.

I'm just getting started.

Fall

October 11, 2010

The weather in Houston is gorgeous.  So perfect I want to stay outside, smelling green and surrounded by nature, as if I have all the time in the world.  No deadlines, no responsibilities, no tasks.  I wonder how long it would take before the lack of demands began to feel burdensome, before I grew restless?  Finding the exact right balance of structured time activity and unstructured time?  Do others do this easily?

Competition motivates some people to do their best but for me I function best without the pressure. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I write for myself, to create the book I want to write, not the book that an agent will decide to represent.  Focusing on an agent's acceptance creates strife, not what I want in my writing time.  Writing is not my work but my passion.  And I fully respect that it is others' work and that is a different story.

I love creating the characters and playing with a plotline.  And sometimes I need a break from that.  If I write like I have very little time, then it becomes a push.  So I write like I have all the time in the world.  I do, afterall.