In this form, we are bound by time. There is absolutely no way around it. We measure time very carefully which gives us a false sense of control. By measuring time, we tell ourselves it flows in an orderly fashion, but time speeds up and slows down in ways that even an atomic clock can not accurately record. C'mon. You know I'm right - right? Oy.
This morning I've been looking at depictions of Old Father Time, leaning on his scythe, looking mighty bedraggled next to the baby new year who is as cute and perky as can be, of course. Every image I saw in my google search was compelling. There is some kind of essential truth in those images, even the silly cartoons. Yeah. Tomorrow night the old guy will give it up, make way for the brand new year, as it should be!
Just as compelling (to me) are depictions of Kali, the Hindu deity who is often called the goddess of destruction. Her name means time. Time is the destroyer, after all, at least in this form it is. There is something so cleansing about Kali's furiousness. She does not sport the calm face, not ever. She is mad as hell and is not going to take it anymore.
I would likely be thinking about time anyway, since New Year's Eve is tomorrow, but this year my fixations with beginnings and endings are particularly intense since I will turn sixty in a few weeks. I should be taking it all in stride since I'm healthy and functional and - more than that - I'm happy with life at the present moment, so very happy. I've been an old lady all my life, just waiting to grow into myself. So I should be just fine with the big birthday looming, right? Right!
Should is a funny word, hey?
Last night a friend who is a great strategic thinker was trying to help me figure out how to celebrate sixty. He knows I hate parties, so throwing a party for myself was off the table before we even began to brainstorm the possibilities. I mentioned it after which he gave me a funny look. He is an extreme extravert. He said, "Throwing parties is stressful - even for me! What are you thinking?" The idea of a party went directly into recycling.
A gathering at the Matchbox Bar? That's a reasonable possibility. My birthday falls on a Wednesday so it shouldn't be too busy early in the evening. I also considered going to New York as I did when I turned fifty.
Turning sixty should be special in some way. I really hope I don't decide to stay in and watch movies on my ipad. How sad would that be? While I'm deciding, I find myself looking at images of Father Time and Kali, also checking airfares to Paris and back. It's a nice fantasy, but turning sixty in Paris alone? Why am I even considering it? You tell me!
Well, whatever. I'll figure it out or I won't. But no matter how many images of Kali and Father Time I stare at, whether I go to Paris or New York or the Matchbox bar, no matter what I do or don't do, on February 13th I will be sixty. Yep, I surely will.
Happy almost new year's. Onwards and upwards. Shalom.
10 comments:
I'll be 63 this year but not til the end of April. time is certainly marching on. I still feel young, well, at least as young as I felt in the 50s, but I know that mentally, the 60s is a big step. for me anyway cause after that is the 70s and both my parents died in that decade.
Paris alone sounds heavenly to me.
Like Pollinatrix, I think being in Paris and alone would be close to perfection.
I guess it was when I turned 60 that I found more value in being alone and began to not need others so much.
Well, maybe I should think about it. Thanks.
Interesting. I avoid momentous occasions: anniversaries, birthdays, acknowledging firsts of any kind. Certainly lasts. I find one foot in front of the other is as momentous as it gets for me. Otherwise, it's too much color, sound and light.
Yeah, Beth. Oh yeah.
60 ehh? Yes should is an interesting word. I often felt that I would grow old gracefully as I too felt a bit of an old soul. However, I wasnt nearly prepared for the aches and pains my body would learn.. If only I disaplined myself to do yoga at home (Since it is an expense that I cant give in to at the present time). Turning 50 was interesting to say the least. I did not expect the party that was given to me at all. It was planned prior to my Mom dying and I was so consumed with her death & mostly taking care of Dad during the weeks that followed, I did not see it coming at all, didnt even think about my birthday. The party for me was very important. Not so much beacause of my birthday, but because of what I had just lost. I was embraced in the love of family & friends and truly needed it.
If you can afford it... do something lavishing for yourself. The idea of Paris sounds lovely. Myself? I would most likely pick Greece or Italy, but I truly would be happy going anywhere even here in the states! Spend time with those you lov & those who love you. Time... it certainly is the villian.
Happy New Year Reya!
I share your 60th birthday dilemma, disliking parties also, and as tut-tut says 'momentous occasions' - I kinda wish it wasn't coming up in Feb, so I'd have more time to think about it. With husband's health issues in particular, keep thinking, this really isn't the time for a big birthday bash, and work and financial considerations limit the big escape. It adds to the dilemma when well meaning people say "you HAVE to do SOMETHING"...still thinking about it.
Yeah, that 60 thing. I ducked out entirely on celebrating it, but a friend had a great bash for her 60th right close to mine, and I sort of silently took it for my own as well. One thing I did was to read this Mary Oliver poem to those assembled:
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
I am going to a Past Life Regression workshop with my best friend, Nina. I have studied with the woman, Dolores Cannon, for a number of years but have never gotten to meet her. She's in her 80's now and is one the premier regressionists in the world. She'll be leaving the planet one of these days and I want to talk with her before she does. She'll be in Sacramento during my birthday month. She never gets that close to me...I'm stoked. Whatever you decide, I'm sure it will be momentous in some way. Cheers!
Post a Comment