I have been talking with coconut, in her journal, about authenticity, in that case about exercise preferences. But it is a point for life too.
I am in my late 50s and one of the good things about aging is the release from worrying about what other people think, about what is cool, or in, or popular with ones peers. I see my adult children (all in their 20s) doing or not doing things because they are or are not what is expected of them. For example, one of them recently expressed a wish to learn to skateboard. When I said why not? They replied they were too old to start now (not yet 25 years of age!
) it wouldn’t be cool to be an adult learning, they should have started as a child!
We should do what we want to do! (Well as long as it’s legal and decent, obviously) We should be the person we want to be. Many of us here have given up years of our lives to obesity, to hiding away, not going to functions, standing at the back, trying to be invisible, wearing clothes that hide our ever larger bodies. It’s time to stop that and do what we want to do. To be who we want to be.
And not to worry about what is cool
I think Facebook and the similar things have a lot to do with this in this day and age. It’s hasnt happened unless it’s gone up on Facebook and got lots of likes. Here I am on the top of a mountain, look at me! Here I am in my new shoes, look at me! People have even died to get a good Facebook photo! That’s appalling.
What would you do even if nobody knew you did it? Would you run if nobody knew you did it? Would you go to evening class if nobody at work knew you were going? Would you wear (or buy) those shoes if nobody knew they were Jimmy Choos?
This is one of my favourite poems about aging.
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
By Jenny Joseph