Ready for 60?
Damned if I know…
This blog will be an exploration, because I really don’t know anything about being 60. Boggles my mind that it is about 18 months away—not in an anti-aging sense but more a “are you sure?” that all that time has passed.
And I am a student of time.
I am Maggie Wheeler, the Seaway Valley’s Queen of Crime, Seaway historian, mid-life blogger, mother of three adults, Leafs fan, communications professional, traveller, late bloomer, moved child, life explorer, expert shape shifter, homo sapiens observer, Star Trek geek (TOS and movies), and woman. Those are the labels to date.
I can say I am a student of time because I have a Masters in English Language and Literature, and history is my second teachable for my BA Ed. English lit and history are almost the same thing as 90% of literature is written in response to the times in which it occurred. And for those familiar with my mystery writing about the St. Lawrence Seaway, you know I play with time to create puzzles to solve.
I am very well aware of time. Yet, I still have to stop and process now and then how much time has indeed passed in even my lifetime.
That’s because I feel timeless. And this worries me. I am in the new generation of people who are starting to lose their peers to health challenges. The body is slowly letting me know I can no longer leap tall buildings with a single bound. My parents were gone by my early twenties, but I have friends dealing with aging mothers and fathers and all the flaming hoops that brings to jump through.
Yet I still feel timeless. I keep wondering if I am actually that person quietly musing about the beauty of the strange gathering fog while a large alien approaches right behind to annihilate me (in Star Trek lingo, the Red Shirt Guy). I do look over my shoulders a lot these days.
Or maybe it’s just my time of life. Maybe it should be this good, this new, this exciting, this space to fill with choice and opportunities. And, just so you know, I am not wealthy. I am and have always been an average person. But at the ripe old age of (non-retired) 58, I wake up in the morning like a kid, wondering what new things the day will bring.
Maybe I should just enjoy it.
This time, like all times, will not come again. I don’t want to just wander or stumble into my sixth decade. I want to MAKE it, create it as I see fit. But I have no manual or guide to start with. My mother died at 58 so I have no personal roadmap, either. That could be the point. Clean slate. Start fresh with all the experience and wisdom gained through the years. The self-knowledge. The perspective and balance. Bring the best of yourself to the new decade.
Talk next week,