Sitting on a bench by the side of a company garden, I watched two small children play on a swing. One child went up, the other went down, and vice versa.
My eyes were glued to the swing on the colourful and joyful side of my greying sixties, but my mind worked in endless raptures. My thoughts were on a swing.
A swing through my past remembrances and my future dreams.
I realized that the past was becoming too heavy, and the dreams of the unseen future were becoming too sparse and lightweight.
The past was beautiful and vibrant, enriching me from all angles and vistas. I achieved what I wanted, earned what I needed and raised a decent family. I nurtured relationships and never compromised my efforts, regardless of my expectations. I followed my passions, lived my profession to the fullest, and made a living.
But do I still have dreams?
Silently, looking at the giggling children, I thought about their dreams. They have no past, just loads and loads of endless dreams. So much has to happen in their lives. For them, the swing is heavier on the dream side.
So,
As we grow old, the swing of memories and dreams continues. As we age, the memories become stronger, and the dreams become less and less real.
At ninety, I remember my father had nothing but his memories to share. He would sit with a group of people and narrate his glorified past, no matter what. His future was ‘the day’, which was not far away, but rather any day.
I tried to nurture my psyche with the positivism of my obscure future. I tried to weed out anything and everything that was cluttering my mind and heart with the burden of emotional baggage. Be it some stupid commitments or loathsome relationships that were sucking and draining my positive energies.
I have been resolute in leading a life full of passion—passion for writing, gardening, travel, and being in love to the last day.
Don’t we all, in our swinging sixties or more, need this fabulous feast to swag our taste buds?
Do we have to follow the rut of still carrying the load of several things we have shouldered in the past three-quarters of our lives? —
Do we need to keep bowing in front of some illogical friendships and relationships that have humbled and sucked us?
Do we really need to keep pondering ways to accumulate more wealth to improve it for people who may not need it or may not give a hoot to the toil we have been doing our entire lives to store it?
No, we don’t need anything.
We must, at least NOW, learn and strive to live for ourselves.
I don’t care if people call me selfish.
At sixty, yes, I am selfish.
I want to live on my own. I want to discover the man in me.
There’s nothing wrong with that.
