55
This week I will turn 55. In my mind I officially become old. Don’t bother me with your proclamations that you are only as old as you feel. Or only as young as you feel. Rubbish. I’m old.
I’ve wished for my own death so many times, to find myself still alive is to say the least, perplexing.
But here I am. And for better or worse I continue to be here.
You play the hand you are dealt. The world around me will still give moments of intense bliss and then in the next second a devastating blow… this is life.
It’s the same for everyone.
The longest game and no one can guess what each other’s ultimate goal really is.
I believe I know where I’m heading.
And the question I will put to others this week…
What is your long game? Where are you heading?
And the haunting question I ask myself in the 3am hour when the world is still and my mind is racing…
Have I done enough to right the wrongs?
Wow… more than half a century…..
My theory is that you’re young until 35, middle-aged from 35 to menopause, and old
after that.