More Than a Milestone - That Fifty Feeling


How the hell did I get here? Fifty! It’s such a big and scary number, especially when I consider myself to be no more than 35. But there’s no denying that I am, without question, fifty; all the birthday cards on my doormat displaying that squalid number confirm the fact that I’m now a quinquagenarian and entitled to join Saga. I am five years from being able to buy a designated retirement home and ten away from getting my free bus pass. The only thing that isn’t getting any closer is my statutory retirement age which seems to be as far as away as ever. At least Her Majesty’s Government is doing its best to reassure me that I’m not yet past it.

Trying to see where
all the time went

I woke up on my fiftieth birthday in a hotel room on a beautiful island with a glorious sea and mountain view out of the window. However, a relaxed day amongst the bars and restaurants of charming Corfu Town was not what I had chosen to do. Instead I got up at 5.30am and embarked upon a nine-hour journey home by hire car, two planes and the London Underground. Tired out by the journey, all that proved feasible was a quiet meal, a swift pint in the local pub and an obscenely early night. All in all, a suitably low-key way to mark this inauspicious occasion.

As you have probably guessed, I found turning fifty a difficult concept. This feeling of disquiet had been formulating for some months and it came as something of a surprise to me having previously not cared about getting older. As a “big one”, you see, it’s nothing like three-o or four-o, both of which I barely remember and not due to alcohol before you ask. They simply didn’t register as relevant; I felt the same as I’d always done and couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. But fifty – well, that really did feel different; a sudden realisation that I had almost certainly lived more of my life than I had left.

In about forty years’ time - more if I’m lucky, less if I’m not - I will cease to be and, as an Atheist, I have no afterlife to look forward to. At some point in the future my time will come to an end and that will be that. I will have existed for a mere fraction of the fourteen billion years since the Big Bang and my passing will not be noticed by the grinding physics of matter and energy. Life is, when looked at in astrophysical terms, a pointless pursuit in a universe that will plough on relentlessly until it reaches its inevitable conclusion of Heat Death. None of this stuff was on my radar even ten years ago, let alone twenty.

Douglas Adams once wrote of a machine called the Total Perspective Vortex which would crush a person’s soul by showing them the insignificance of their existence as compared to the near infinity of the universe. And it’s difficult to argue with him. Looking at the big picture is generally a good thing; looking at the enormously big picture, rather less so. As Adams wrote, “if life is going to exist in a Universe of this size, then the one thing it cannot afford to have is a sense of proportion”.
An artist's impression of my impact
on the universe

With that in mind, it was time to cast off my gloomy clothes and look to the positives. What is the point in miring myself in things I cannot conceivably control, when there is so much in my life that I can. After all, there is an infinite number of things that can be done with a life and even the most adventurous barely scratch the surface – and I can hardly claim to have been particularly adventurous in my life thus far. On the contrary, it is fair to say that much of my life to date has been taken up with building a career. Not that I have any regrets about this; my working life has been exceptionally stimulating and varied. I have met and worked with inspiring people and amazing organisations, and have learned so very much about so many fields of interest. I leave with a wealth of fantastic memories and life lessons; it has been an enjoyable journey and I wouldn’t change a thing about it. But I’ve done that, got the T-Shirt and it’s time to change track.

Beginning now I intend to bring my creative side more to the fore and make fifty the start of a new and exciting phase to my life; a milestone and not a millstone, if you will. I intend to find the outlets for my writing; be that a stage, a TV, a radio, a website, an e-reader or a bookshop. I intend to see the world and travel to places I have never been; to allow my senses to be stimulated by new cultures. I intend to take advantage of new opportunities and experiences wherever they may be and not to be put off by my own prejudgements and fears. And most of all, I intend to keep growing in character - whilst shrinking in physical size; that perennial promise! I can never be perfect but can always improve if I’m prepared to acknowledge my faults. I fully believe I’m a better person now than I have ever been and my ambition is to never reach a point in my life where that is not the case.

So no fiftieth celebrations for me. What would I have been celebrating anyway? The mere fact of getting there is not in itself an achievement worthy of bunting, as the vast majority of people live to see their sixth decade. No, I’ll save celebrating for when I’ve earned it and earning it I intend to do. The universe may not care, but I do and that's what really matters. Fifty years down but the best is yet to come.

Cheers!

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Comments

  1. Jane Lawrence15 February 2018 at 05:42

    50? A mere babe - the best is ahead! Good post - thanks.

    ReplyDelete

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