My father always used to regale me with stories that happened “20 odd years ago” and, as a 12 year old, I couldn’t even fathom how long ago that was. Jump to a few years later and when he’d re-tell the same story I’d smugly point out that it actually happened “30 odd years ago” and I found this rather amusing.
You know what’s coming though. Yep. The joke’s really on me because now I tell stories that happened “20 odd years ago” and it doesn’t seem like such a long time after all. Does this mean my appreciation of time has normalized? Or that I’m getting older and it’s a downward spiral? I prefer the former but at the back of my mind is the latter.
You know what? The more I think about it, the more amusing the irony is. I clearly remember listening to older people in their late twenties talking about how the years were just slipping away (see where I’m going with this?). I’d always assumed that suddenly you click and become a fully featured adult and you just want to do adult things like spend a Saturday afternoon at a DIY superstore and all of Sunday washing the car, doing the garden and using all the things you bought at the DIY superstore yesterday.
Well here I am. 27. Not much different than when I was 18. Bit bigger and stronger. Maybe a bit wiser. Less inclined to ponder the world and try to solve all its’ problems. And less hung up on my appearance or other people’s opinions. I’ve had more than my fair share of both good and bad experiences and that’s changed my point of view somewhat. So I suppose the moral of the story is that you get older. Some stuff happens. You learn and adapt. The things that mattered to you when you were younger are replaced by some other stuff that matters right now. And that’s that.
You can believe that if you like, but I just said that I don’t try to ponder too much in the world (weren’t you listening?) so I’ll stick to living in the moment. Right now. Because that’s all you’ve got. Well, apart from memories of course. But they’re done and dusted. And there’s plenty new ones to make. So you won’t catch me down a DIY superstore on a Saturday. And the car can wash itself (I live in rainy Yorkshire you know) and I don’t care if the grass does need cutting. I’ll prefer going running, mountain biking, hiking, bowling, playing tennis, golfing, driving around Scotland, eating good food and living life to the full any day to writing some tedious assessment of how old I feel…