The wandering mind…

The wandering mind of a middle aged woman can be a very scary place. Believe me, I should know. I live in there every single moment of every single day. After fifty years you would think I would have mastered it by now, bent it to my will and molded it to perfection. But inside, the fifty year old brain is still in infancy. Battered by emotions, fueled by undisciplined passion, and lacking in the knowledge one would come to expect by this age.

But how did I get to this age? Wasn’t it just yesterday I was riding my bike with my friends in front of my family’s bungalow? Where did the time go? And why do I feel less qualified to be an adult now than when I turned eighteen?

They say wisdom comes with age but I have discovered that more often than not, the more I know the less I really know. Take for instance technology and science. I can run a computer or research things on my phone but I still have no idea why the light bulb comes on when I flip a switch.

So what have I really learned in all these years? That is a very difficult question to answer. So many thoughts race to my brain but as I ponder and really look at them I realize I only know the surface of so many things but yet a few certain truths stand out.

First and foremost, gravity and greasy foods are vile, evil culprits which should be eradicated from this earth before all hope is lost. They plague the body in a myriad of ways causing once lean, toned bodies to become lumpy, thick mounds of rebellious flesh. This does not even begin to mention what happens to our inner workings through years of silent onslaught.

Secondly, the reality of the world’s view of us is quickly realized with the selfie leaving us to ponder who the person looking back at us is, and why do they have so much grey hair and lines around their faces? The image locked in our mind carries us back in time to a fairy tale land where complexions are smooth and glowing, hair is flowing about us in waves of beauty and our eyes and smiles radiate like sparklers on a dark summer night. Now our image stares back at us in an instant and I see the truth.

When I was young I thought by age fifty I would have conquered the world. I would have an exciting job with many career accomplishments, planning retirement, living in a beautiful spacious home, kids off to college,  traveling…enjoying the good life. Well things didn’t quite go as planned. I am fifty years old. I have a daughter getting married in two months and another one in college along with myself, but as for the rest of it, the reality is quite different from the dream. Life at fifty means divorce, starting my career over after raising kids, home is modest but nice. I went to a weekend getaway last year to Michigan. Does that count as traveling?  And retirement…what is that?

When we are young life seems to stretch out as far as the eye can see on a highway across the open plains. We believe life is a great adventure just beyond the horizon. But all too quickly we realize a lot of the adventure is behind us.

Did we enjoy it?

Did we make it all it could be?  

Is it too late?

 

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