Most people think that time is our most valuable asset – and in a sense it is. Once is gone, it is irreversible. We can’t make for a lost time, if something so vague and abstract can be lost at all.
Recently I turned 40. When I entered my thirties I felt excited, invigorated about the things that were ahead of me, what I can and will do. But of course not everything always goes the way we plan it and wish. Something similar happened to me in the last couple of years which I described in this post. My life was somehow always on the rush until my health warned me to slow down and pay attention to things I probably have neglected – which also meant that I needed to rearrange my plans and re-prioritize. My 40th birthday made me think about those things again. It felt overwhelming like being stuck ‘in the middle’: you are not old, but hey you entered your 5th decade and that must be something 🙂 So thoughts about how I spent my last couple of years, have I missed something, am I too late for something … began to creep in my mind again. And I must admit I was never fond of birthdays. Especially mine. As born on 31st December is like..how to describe it..it never felt like my day or special day, particularly in my childhood years. Everyone was always too busy with preparation for New Year’s Eve, my friends were busy and I with my birthday was just “lingering” there, not feeling like it belonged to me.
So this birthday turned out too be a little bit heavy too, but then I decided to write a poem about it. It’s something that my subconsciousness just expelled out of my mind and is interesting in what it resulted: You can read it bellow:
I dreaded my 40th birthday.
That was the day I truly wished there was a time machine
to reverse this number or at least
erase that rounded chubby space
behind the wall of four.
To undo all those wasted tears,
not even spilled, just dried in the corner of my eyes;
to count not years, but smiles that flooded my face
each time his touch, in slow pace traveled across my spine.
to collect less of strange, signed and approved confessions
that I can, may, want and know
and to dance more wrapped in the smoke
of my momentary desires
and just swing from one digit to another.
to admit I am good enough,
to accept this short breathing experience is only mine,
that what ever I do it will be fine.
to decide just to live, in spite of all
imposed societal thrills…
That was the day – time,
conveniently invented unit of remorse
stopped to weigh my loss
stopped to count
After writing and reading it, I felt amazingly better. It’s like passing through a gate or reaching some sort of threshold realization that can be summarized in 4 little words: It’s never too late … to get creative, to do what you love, in a way you want to do it. You can be sidetracked, have obstacles, but unless you say it’s late, it isn’t. You can count your time the way you like it and you are old the way you feel inside – not by the numbers in your birth certificate.
With this post I want to encourage you that in what ever phase of your life you are, you can start with what ever your heart desires: to learn, to write, to teach, to play sports, to travel, to get creative…Your phase of life might influence how and where you do it, but the essence is still there, you can do it if you wish for it. You are never late and never old.
If you liked this post and you are interested in getting more inspiration for your creativity, sign up for our free bimonthly newsletter.