“Each thing must be cooked within its own blood, says alchemy. So, the red heart whitens within its own failures.” (James Hillman, Thought of the Heart and Soul of the World)
Growing older is like losing a job you needed but didn’t want. Part of you is relieved (thank God I don’t have to do that anymore), another part is traumatised (What will I do – who will I be – how will I be – now?) and yet another part is stirred into action (I better get a move on and live my life).
Lately I’ve noticed small things – creases in the soft skin beneath my elbows, puffy eyes in the mornings – with an approach more like curiosity than the fear I thought I’d feel (Oh, so that’s what happens next!?).
I want to enjoy the last moments of youth I still have – the hair which isn’t yet grey, the skin which is still firm on my jaw and the energy I still have to care for my family. At the same time I look forward to slowly giving up what I have now to become the formidable old woman I plan to be.
Yes, I like growing older now – it’s feels like I’m on the long journey home.