I think getting older is just the best. Each year that passes, my concern for what others might think about what I think, what I say or how I say it, is falling away — I can feel it. And as it falls away, so too do the filters and facades I carried around with me to suit ‘them’. I feel like a snake shedding my skin and each time I get shinier and brighter and braver.
Maybe you just run out of energy or have less fucks to give as you get older…but I suspect it is because I have also figured out what you put so eloquently: If your message isn’t authentic and specific to what you believe in 100%, it isn’t worth anything.
I makes writing scary. I means being vulnerable and putting ideas out there that are going to generate negative reactions and responses. Or worse. No reaction. While my aging hasn’t eliminated me feeling a hell of a lot like like Lisa Simpson in the episode when the teachers went on strike — I still crave the feedback, the evaluation and validation — it’s a little less frequent, a little less severe, a little less all around.
Thank you for telling your story — other story tellers are listening and watching.