“Every day brings a chance for you to draw in a breath, kick off your shoes, and dance.” ― Oprah Winfrey
Do you ever find yourself doing something totally ridiculous and immature and then you stop and think – crap, how old am I?
No? Me neither.
No, seriously. I’ve had this conversation several times over the past few months with my mother, my grandmother, friends etc. Sometimes you look in the mirror and think “Who is that person staring back at me?”
This weekend the hubby and I went to a Florence and the Machine concert. It was phenomenal, of course. But as I was there, rockin’ it out and making fun of the guy in the row in front of us who was TOTALLY into it, I started thinking. (Scary, I know.)
Sometimes I feel old. I mean clearly at the age of 34, I am –ahem– NOT old, but it’s something we all go through, no matter our age.
But then something happens that takes us back to another time and we forget all the crazyness of being an adult and we just exist, as who we truly are at our core.
As we walked into the concert, we passed a group of young twenty somethings. A strangely familiar scent passed our nostrils. We both looked at each other and said “Pot” at the same time. Now back in the day, I would have not thought a thing of it and just kept on walking. I probably wouldn’t have even commented on it. But the hubby and I had to discuss the idiocy of these “kids” who were smoking literally 30 feet from a police officer. Talk about ballsy. They couldn’t have done that in their car? Didn’t they think about the consequences?
Yup, we’re old
At the concert, I was totally jammin’ – head bopping, arms in the air, jumping and feeling awesome. I didn’t feel 34. I felt 20 – young with no responsibilities, just the thoughts of maybe I’ll skip class tomorrow running through my head.
Then at 5:50 a.m., when my youngest woke up screaming to get up, reality set in. Oh yeah, I’m not 20. I’m 34 and have a family and responsibilities. I can’t sleep in. I can’t stay up super late or drink too much without TOTALLY regretting it the next day.
But ya know what? It doesn’t matter. Age doesn’t matter.
Sometimes I feel eight, like when I’m swinging on a swing set with my kids, wind in my hair, trying to go higher and higher. And sometimes I feel fifty like when I throw my back out closing a window.
We can be responsible adults who sometimes hike up our pants too far to get a laugh out of your husband or who give wedgies and wet willies. We can chase our kids and significant others until we can’t breathe or give tickle fights until someone cries uncle.
Age is just a number. Life is so much more.
I needed this reminder. I’m hoping some of you did too.