Maybe they are right, it’s an arbitrary measure of how long you have lived chronologically. But only if life could be lived in the simple timelines that come ahead. Some days I am 10 years behind, like a kid that I always am. Some days I function like an adult, apt for the time. Some other days I am a toddler, whose insatiable demands leave me heart broken. Some other days I am a philosopher trying her tiny hands at solving problems that may appear 10 years from now.
It does seem age is just a number. Like a river that splits into tributaries that visits different landscapes as it journeys through time, twisted and turned. A part of me lies in the pristine mountains, some other submerged in the waters of the South. Perhaps it would be best to let the streams unwind on their own and be washed into the sea.
No number could ever justify the depth that we have seen amalgamated into one.
Growing Up – a series on well, growing up. Every Saturday because Saturdays are perfect for overthinking.
In a time when ‘Where do you see yourself in 5 years?’ is a daunting question to not being able to finding the matching pair of socks to work, to freaking out thinking about work-life balance (already! How long has it been?), yeap that’s growing up.
So one day I asked my mom what am I going to do with life. I told her how I couldn’t manage all the 1678 things I wanted to do.
‘Wake up at 5 AM,’ she said.
I was stumped. Was I expecting a soothing answer as a cure to my laziness burns, maybe?
Wake up at 5. It would probably solve many problems.
Trying to start a regular posts on Saturday evenings about growing up. Well, because holidays are a good time to overthink, drink hot chocolate and dream about everything that isn’t there!