Our society glorifies youth and appearance. And I’ll fully admit to being a bit freaked out about being closer to 50 than 30. And to be honest, 30 doesn’t feel all that long ago.
I feel the same as I always have. Same like and dislikes. Same bad habits and good nature.
But I don’t look the same. And I’m okay with that. I don’t want to go the trout-lips route.
But I do want to be the best I can be and I just don’t mean shiny hair, a glowing complexion and minimized crows feet. I want to enjoy what life has to offer.
So what does that mean for me? It means enjoying my work. It means nurturing my friendships. It means travel and good food. Wine, dancing and lazy mornings in bed.
It means giving back and being there for the people I love.
It also means starting new things. I have decided to start writing again. Yes, I know, I write now. And while I love my job and I love this blog, I think it’s time to take my plot outlines and pages of stuff somewhere….I don’t know where yet. I just want start. And maybe I’ll finish.
And if I don’t — well that’s fine, too. My bathtub also needs re-caulking and that’s also a worthy goal.
Getting older is better with some goals. And I’ve got two.