Time passes like a gushing wind which suddenly slows as the seasons change and skies clear; its’ course collides with the atmosphere and redirects for the greatest advantage. It is temperamental and often cries as it howls and moans through the dark of night, bringing shadows into the rhythm of its haunting shroud. The wild wind stirs the dust as it whisks away the dirt and clears the weeds, revealing the barren plateaus and filling the vacuous crevasses.
It is the perfect analogy for life. Life emulates the wind and time takes a toll when alas all that has been encumbered begins to wither with the brisk of the breeze and the setting of the sun. One must endure the harsh terrain, seed the fertile soil and be forever transformed in the stripping away of all that dirties your soul. It is the rhythm of life, of aging through decades of massive change and thought-provoking events which mold the seasoned soul.
The 65th sojourn around the sun is momentous, for one can no longer claim middle age as the deepening lines once blurred are now fixed.
“How many years do I have left” voices the air I breathe?
When there are more behind me than in front of me, I now ponder and plot with more purposeful deliberation. The precious dew that once adorned my bronze, taunt skin has faded. I once ran with wildness in my bones and hoped to ne’re be bridled only now discovering, the authentic beauty of both the bridled and unbridled tether.
That girl in the mirror still giggles but now has decades flowing through the corners of eyes that were once lit with wonder, now aglow with glimmers of wisdom, only slightly dimmed by the history they’ve been witness to. My hair is aflame with silver like the branches of old tree, sprigs shoot out to reach for the sky but fall short of touching the stars. Happiness has filled my belly with an overflowing jiggle and my every changing frame holds the weight of a life filled with experience. The insecurities of youth have been replaced by unconditional self-love and Zen-like comfortability with my ever-increasing size. Where drama once fed me, a calm, serene, happy-go-lucky diet is my daily food.
Magical epiphanies flow like rivers when I recognize, that unlike a distant friend, I don’t have a “resting bitch face.” I see myself with the most brutal honesty and poignant observation as if outside my body. I walk through my house smiling with no witness to see…