I spoke with someone very dear to me on the phone about life and everything else. During the conversation, something occurred to me (you know the way it can happen, when speaking unguardedly with someone who understands), something important enough for me to want to record it:
It has taken me forty years (ok, very nearly), two children, two (failed) marriages, and quite a lot of living, to get where I am now - where I've stopped bending over backwards to be all things to all people.
Youth, who needs it.
Friday, July 27, 2007
No more chameleonticism for me
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21 comments:
What a fine word is chameleonticism!
How good is it too to have that realisation. My own way of thinking is that I'm heading much more towards being self-possessed, and away from being self-conscious. If ever I miss my younger days it doesn't take long for me to realise how much better I am now in so many respects.
As you say - youth, who needs it x
ps word ver is "sorisuds"
housut - not only is your comment brilliant (what a succinct way to put it, truly - "towards being self-possessed, and away from being self-conscious" - yes, exactly so, young man!), but the award for the best, funniest, and aptest word ver of the week - possibly, of the month, and against very stiff competition, I must point out - goes to sorisuds, beyond any shadow of a doubt. I am delighted. DELIGHTED.
x
ttshfpom to youth, I say.
I would, however, like to still be capable of bending over backwards. I enjoyed being flexible. Now I just creak, crack and stop before I hurt myself.
Are sorisuds the remnants of the bubbles which cling grimly to the side of the tub at the end of a long and much-needed bath?
xx
The kids are alright
cbnauu
But - I still can bend over backwards, I will have you know. It's just that I bend over backwards for me these days, not for all and sundry.
Sorisuds are indeed, as you so very correctly guessed, these unwanted, post-bath, grimy soap remnants on bathtubs, but the online dictionary attached to this particular site does suggest the most commonplace usage of the word is as a figure of speech, denoting similar remnants of past events, on the sides of the mind.
x
D/s Zola, how charming to see you've brought not only the song, but also the Pete Townsendian guitar solo ("cbnauu - cbnauu"). I can just see you doing the accompanying windmill-arms movement. Lovely.
You are right, too, of course - the kids are indeed alright. It's really just akin to the case of the purple cow. You know, "I'd rather see than be one."
x
Me! I need it. They say it's wasted on the young. It's only at the point where you begin to find your True Colours that you should get a big measure of it. Well perhaps you will and all.
Mazel Tov
x
Honey Signs - I bet you were brilliant already whilst a teenager. I was just a mess, truly. It would be an absolute nightmare to wake up as one again. And as for my twenties, well, it's the children that were the saving grace of that decade.
'Snuff said...
x
Noooo, I wasn't brilliant - I didn't bleedin well know I was born. That's why youth was wasted on me, see. I want it naoooow - as the toddler shrieked outside the sweetshop. Wouldn't want to go back and wake up 16 again, though. No.
Isn't it one of old GB Shaw's lines, yoof being wasted on the young?
I'm not sure exactly what it means, if it isn't a less-wrinkled forehead (mine is worse than my mother's. It's DREADFUL, and yes, come to think of it, I might swap the self-knowledge I now have to have my alabaster crown back). Honestly though - I have gone over this in some post in the past, so I am repeating myself here - but I do feel better about just about everything now than I have at any point since turning, like, 11, and I don't know how I could have my youth back without having the confusion, self-hatred, trying to adapt to be like everyone else (honestly, what is all that about?!) whilst simultaneously suffering because of a perceived sense of "I'm not anybody special", the list is endless (and maybe just a bit more self-revealing than I am actually prepared to be, here at the top, d'you catch my drift, Signs?). I stand by my argument - I most certainly don't need my youth (except maybe for the forehead, because that really is a pretty bad state of affairs).
x
..'but I was so much older then,I'm younger than that now '
who else but Dylan
Yes, Lavenderblue - there's that, too. Couldn't play because I thought I would look silly. Now - I play even though I do. So it goes...
"I used to care but things have changed". Ditto.
x
Always be silly Anna Mr.............
We must ! xx
qjyqa ?uhuh !
Gweiddi Anna mr,
That's a good place to be, not bending over backwards to be all things to all people.
I wouldn't want to go back in time to my youth, but I quite like at times behaving as a youth (as a nearly forty year old myself.)
Hey Anna MR... greetings!
Where does 'youth' end?
I know some people in their 60s and older who still have youth sparkling in their eyes.
But I know what you mean. When you are young, you long to be older and you wish your life away. You are filled with all sorts of anxieties (unless precociously wise); life as a young 'un is not carefree. When you are small, you may be afraid of monsters, then when you are a bit older, you are scared of things related to your peers and their perceptions. There's always something. Until you become that bit older and can see with the benefit of perspective that really, these things do not matter that much, life can be a worrisome journey.
To get to a stage where you really don't care about things too much and don't bend over backwards just to please, is only a good thing. I believe that you do not have to sacrifice that inherent spark of youth for it, though. But, yes, I do know what you mean.
x
Thanks anna for your response to my comment - and the word ver really was quite something wasn't it? Unlike this one, which is the far-less-interesting "pdrakt"
x
Dear all, apologies for the lateness of my replies. I have been out in the wilderness, dodging wild animals and hunter-gathering and doing other uspeakable things in the woods, the sinner that I am. Anyway, onwards and upwards...
Lavenderblue - silliness is in my blood. Yours too, girl, I can tell. Half of the hassle of being young was that I was embarrassed about my silliness. The other half came about because I was embarrassed about my seriousness. Ho, hum, it's good to be too "old" to care, I can only reiterate that.
Kahless - very pleased indeed to see you at my house, and please don't let my delayed reply to your first visit deter you from nipping over again. I am usually much more hospitable a hostess. But hang on a minute - do I sense a wee Welsh connection here, what with gweiddi and all that? Could it be so? I will tell you, Kahless, that I am most partial to all things and people Welsh, having spent six very important years there. I would go so far as to say I consider myself a bit of an honorary Welsh person. Rwy'n Cymraes fach, really, Cymru am byth. I am also very pleased to hear that you, too, have found being nearly-forty liberating (I deduce this from the fact you say you too allow yourself behaviour which could be described as youthful, but don't hark back to being young) rather than the time to start finally being "sensible" (perish the thought). Why is it, incidentally, that enjoying life etc is considered "youthful" behaviour? I am directing this question to you now, too, Ms Dark (hello, good day, and lovely to see you). I was no less anxiety-riddled at, say, sixteen than now, had more problems with alcohol etc, and found various basic enjoyable experiences just so much harder to achieve (you catch my drift, ladies) then than now. So really, if there's ever been a spark in my eye, it's now rather than then.
To be totally serious for a moment, I think it's something to be grateful for and a sign that my life, in spite of various difficulties I don't wish to air here (I have and shall at various points elsewhere), been a good one.
housut honey, you are thoroughly welcome to the previous comment and the coveted prize, you have earned both. As for "pdrakt" - it smacks nastily of bureacracy, somehow. Or is that just me?
xxxx one each, dear hearts
Yes, Kahless, I can vouch for Ms Anna being an excellent hostess.
I don't know about the "unspeakable things in the woods". I hope you weren't doing anything I wouldn't do. Actually, on second thoughts that would rule out an awful lot - of climbing, I mean, and - no, just forget what I just said. It sounds very Blair Witch Project to me.
Lovely Prince Signs - unspeakable things in the woods is (are) what make(s) the wilderness what it is. Wild. Don't act all coy, lady, I have you sussed. Blair Witch all round... and hurrah for the age and stage which allows for a bit of witching.
x mwah
Gweiddi Anna,
No, your delayed reply did not deter me from coming back to visit you. I will be visiting often I think. :o)
Let me answer your welsh questions:
I live in North Wales and I do have Welsh bloodline (my paternal grandparents are from Aberavon.)
But I consider myself an Englishwoman.
I did take some Welsh classes, but I was very poor. But I get some mail through in Welsh, that you cant help but pick up the odd titbit.
I am glad to hear that you have a spark in your eye.
Be well, Anna.
iechyd da
Kahless.
Hei Kahless - diolch yn fawr iawn. You are a very welcome visitor here, and don't be frightened by the fact that at the moment, the reply services are on hold. You be well, too Kahless. x
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