Changes

It is just over a year since I blogged, and that after a staggering intermitentness that had been coming for a while. And then I start to think that I really would like to get back to it but maybe try to keep the politics to a minimum now. I turned 70 last year and as one of my heroes, David Crosby, ( a man of some political opinion himself ) said, upon turning to his twilight years, “I can’t stay angry for the rest of my life.” Or something like that, you get the gist.

So, I open up my WordPress and BOOM … they’ve moved all the furniture! Even my Gravatar is some pink thing that doesn’t identify the Monkey at all. Someone once told me, in the early stages of married life, that the route to a happy life is to “not let her rearrange furniture more than once every six months”. Wise words… (Wink) … if somewhat misogynistic. After all, it’s me who moves stuff around in our house. 

Which brings me to the subject of change ( or, as David Bowie would have it … ch ch ch changes).

I know it’s probably my imagination but the minute that the clock ticked over to seven zero my body seemed to say to itself “Well, time to put your feet up”. For instance, I know that it is more difficult to shift the extra timber you gain when you get older but I have been lucky enough in the past to keep it down to what I have accepted as “my weight”. Just inside my BMI max.

No longer. The impact of too much pudding during Christmas excess has proven to be immovable. The post-Christmas tummy where the cat rests his head and goes to sleep is, like the cat, refusing to budge. Never mind being beach-ready. When Spring and Summer come I have to be Street Dude ready. I have some great T-shirts for the season.

Of course, I tell myself that Change is a good thing. That with Change comes opportunity. I can wear purple as much as I like for Change is stimulation. I once had a boss whose mantra was to change something every day, just a little thing, so that life doesn’t become routine and you allow yourself the opportunity for new dimensions. I tried that and found it quite uplifting until one day my wallet slipped into a fifth dimension of space and time and I was bereft. (If you want to unsettle a man, hide his wallet.)

So Mrs. Monkey (workaholic) and I (target-orientated) are embracing change. Instead of daily ploughing on to Goal Achievement, or switching the way the loo roll feeds, we are allowing ourselves moments of joy. Slowing the pace a little to spend time with a fine aromatic coffee, away from the desk, reading a poem or short section of our current book as we do so, before going back to our labours, refreshed. Yes, waking up, smelling the coffee, spending time in repose. Ageing is just a number (albeit a number that keeps going up), but we are learning to use our time more wisely and changing the makeup of our day as we do so. These changes, pauses in our day to allow ourselves a Moment of Joy, really do reset the compass.

Find your moments of joy… stroke the cat … watch the sea … go for a walk … listen to music … allow yourself to pause and wonder … forever changes …