Tuesday, September 8, 2009

One wild and precious life

I came across this poem posted by Baraka , and I know that it will stay with me for a long, long time.

Her latest post also talks about turning a decadal year, and the overwhelming feelings this event can evoke. And it is true that the passing of years, of decades, are generally looked upon with dread.

I don’t see why. My thirties have been a time when I have understood myself most. I now know me, and while I might not like all that Chicu is, I certainly am fond of her and accept her. In some ways, I am calmer and more accepting of the things that cannot be. But this does not mean lassitude..because I am also quick to recognize the things that can be, and quick to reach for them.

And that has been good. In the last three years, I have had more change and more adventures than in the previous nine. Childhood dreams (travel, work, domesticity- and I love this one- driving a road roller) have come true. If I continue at this rate, my big childhood fantasy of walking the old silk route will come true at 40.

Can you guess I’m looking forward to that? To finding out what else I can do with my one wild and precious life?

1 comment:

nadi said...

at last we have something in common!

you are fond of her too.

though it took All the two years of your thirties to figure it out.

I knew I was fond of her when I was 8.

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