I’ve got a cold and am feeling blah, so went to my file of “scraps,” which consists of occasional thoughts scribbled down in random moments, for this week’s piece.
One of my favourite sights in Wellington City
There’s realizing that the fantasies
won’t come to pass.
You’ll never be good enough at calligraphy
You’ll never be able to read Proust in French
You’ll never be skilled enough at drawing to make cartoons
You’ll never be able to follow a music score.
You’ll never design and make a website.
You know in a whole new way that there’s not enough life span left
for these things to become.
Who you are, what you can do now, are it.
You might become a better reader of poetry
write something you are truly proud of
help a friend
experience joy, contentment, transcendence even.
And that must be enough.
out there 
Yes. It’s a different phase of life, isn’t it. In my twenties up to forties thinking of my dreams would uplift me, and I have achieved many of them. But lately it’s the present moments -usually related to peace or beauty or even awe – that uplift me, not my dreams. I have a few fantasies still but they are more pragmatic, and many of my old ones I have willingly dropped.
Perhaps our brains adapt when we are older to help us better deal with the journey towards the end of our lives.
Jan
This is a great comment, Jan, thank you. It’s not so much having a ‘bucket list’ of things to tick off, as enjoying what happens, what pops out in front of you. A recent example for me was looking at one of the Shi Lu paintings in the exhibition from China at Te Papa, a painting of orchids, with something written in Chinese characters down the side, and just loving the sheer beauty of it.
Thanks Pat, great read!
Glad you liked it.