Early morning, sky silver and next door a chicken is bawking, clucking, making known her post-egg angst. The boys are coming soon, they will burst in the door, they will want smoothies, playing, holding, attention. I am feeling some sort of post-something angst myself this morning, surrounded by a world which constantly renews itself, redefines itself not unlike the ocean, so seemingly eternal, which changes with every wave. Meanwhile I seem merely to sink further and further into sure decay, my only changes those of aging and decrepitude.
This may be illusion but the truth of the matter is - I will never lay another egg.
Well, to everything there is a season and I certainly had mine and this is just another part of it all I suppose, although not one I was truly prepared for. Why is there such mystification at the face in the mirror as the years progress? Why do we think that we will be the first to escape time's ravagings?
Have I not studied Keith Richards carefully?
Your eggs are laying eggs now :)
ReplyDeleteGo be a Mer Mermaid today, and don't sink.
I know. But there is no reason to rage against the dying of youth. Or grieve it, as least? It's so much to lose.
ReplyDeleteI am thankful for your reminder of renewal, which I dearly need this morning, and also glad for your reminder that I will not escape time. Because you're right, we do all think we will be the one.
ReplyDeleteYes I did. I thought diet and exercise would hold back the ravages of time, but they don't. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in a window walking down a street and I wonder who that person could be. It is what it is, so we must deal with it.
ReplyDeleteWell, I'm not dealing with it very well either. I knew in the abstract that I would get older, but I never thought what it would be like to have my body not hold up like I need it to, or my mind, or my moods.
ReplyDeleteI was driving along today listing all the things in my head I am not any more, like supple or attractive or attracted or funny or as smart, and I almost wallowed in it a bit, but I cranked up the radio and bopped along in my car and tried to push the bleak thoughts away.
I'm with you, I just don't know why I am so mystified by the inevitable. I share in your consternation, and I am really glad someone else feels the angst too. I just need to know I'm not the only one, that helps more than you know.
xo
and you many not lay eggs anymore, but you sure know how to tend them. :)
Ah, birthday months are a bitch, aren't they?
ReplyDeleteSJ- If I was a hen, they'd have me in the stewpot by now.
ReplyDeleteJo- It sometimes seems like everything becomes lost. And eventually, yes it really does.
Ms. Vesuvius- Humans are so illogical, aren't we?
Allison- Some days I deal with it better than others.
Mel- Yes. I can tend to the baby chicks. That I can do. No my love. You are certainly NOT alone.
Stephanie- They sure can be, sugar.
Good lord. I was having these exact same thoughts this morning when I went on a walk. The clinging, the clinging.
ReplyDeleteI didn't think about Keith Richards, though, and that last line of this post made me die laughing. I bet I looked younger just reading it!
Elizabeth- But seriously- have I not? Does he make older age look too cool? And Mick Jagger? What's up with him and those snake hips, that dance body? Yes, his face is ravaged but time hasn't taken a damn thing from him, artistically.
ReplyDeleteTrue about the eggs. Age is a weird coat to wear. Sometimes it's made of cashmere. Sometimes it's woven out of thorns.
ReplyDelete