Weekly Writing Challenge: Age: What’s In A Number?

This week’s Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years, poses the following:

“explore what age means to you. Is it the loss of youth, or the cultivation of wisdom? Do things get better as you grow older, or worse?”

For those of you who follow this blog, this is a topic that I have written too much plenty about. Call it a mid-life crisis; call it fixation; call it whining… but aging has been front and center for me, for the past couple of years. Of course, it hasn’t been just the impact of my age, but the simultaneous aging of my children. As they have grown up and out… into the world, it’s been a double-whammy reminder of the passing of time. For several years, I was so wrapped up in my little ones: their exhausting schedules and needs, their delicious love and adoration, their, their, their everything, that I hardly looked in the mirror. I barely noted the passing of time for myself; the years were marked by my kid’s milestones, not my own.  Kindergarten, first, second, etc grade, pediatricians, sports teams and banquets, changing bodies (theirs, not mine), play dates, teacher meetings, homework, friends and dramas, and always, always, always “what’s for dinner?”– the years have passed in a blur of child centered details.  Then, I woke up.

Facing 50

Facing 50

I woke up a couple of years ago; I looked in the mirror and I was rapidly approaching 50. I looked tired. There were my mother’s wrinkles around my eyes and mouth; there were all those years, etched into my face and across my body. I woke up; more than half my life was gone, and frankly, I panicked a little. I’d been writing, with little gusto, for too many years– not really owning my own dreams.  I had gained weight, with little effort to put it in check, despite an obsessive focus and judgement of my weight. My thoughts often drifted to my past: paths I chosen, paths I’d missed. Like grabbing a cactus, age leaves all kinds of prickly bits to deal with, some right on the surface and others that are burrowed deeper. But the glaring thing that struck me, was that I’d been missing some things; I’d let some important details fall through the cracks, as I raised my children and tried to stay afloat.

“Is it (aging) the loss of youth, or the cultivation of wisdom? Do things get better as you grow older, or worse?”

I should have appreciated this body, and my youth, a lot more!

I should have appreciated this body, and my youth, a lot more!

When I read this prompt, I felt myself react viscerally. I can’t imagine a clear and concise answer to either of those questions. Let’s face it: if you’re not aging, your done. However, aging itself is fraught with enormous challenges. If you have children, if you’re in a partnership, if you have parents: it’s impossible to age naturally, without eventually facing your children growing up and leaving you. You will eventually see your parents die, and it’s unlikely that you will be in a long-term relationship, without some significant challenges. Given all of that, I am proud of the life I’ve lived, for the most part. There are many things I might do differently, given an opportunity– some of them major do-overs; some of them blips on the screen; many of them cliché. I certainly wish I’d understood how great my youth was, when I was in it. I wish I’d appreciated my body more, and not judged it so harshly. It looked pretty damned good from where I’m sitting now. I wish I’d understood my mother, and her life, a lot better when I was younger… I wish I’d asked her more questions, and learned more from her; I wish I hadn’t judged her so harshly. Now that I’m a mother of almost grown children, it’s a lot easier to see how hard it must have been for her.  I wish I’d appreciated the opportunities that were in front of me, and explored more of them. I wish I hadn’t let other people’s opinions impact me so much. I wish I’d learned a LOT earlier, to let go of baggage.

There are also many things I’ve done that I look back on, and smile. I feel a deep sense of satisfaction in some of my actions and decisions. I was a good daughter to my mother; I was a good sister to my siblings; I did my best. I’m grateful for the time we spent at the very end of Mom’s life.  I’ve been a good friend to my friends. I was the best I could be, in a given time and place, and I’ve grown from each friendship– the ones that have lasted a lifetime, and the ones that didn’t.  I’ve worked hard on my marriage. For 30 years, I can say that I’ve truly invested my time and energy, and worked to be a good partner. Collectively, my children have impacted my life more than any other event, or any other person. I’ve raised three amazing kids, who are each uniquely equipped to contribute to this world. They are  interesting people who I truly enjoy knowing. There are ways in which they are the same, but overall, they are surprisingly different from one another. Nature or nurture? I have to believe that it’s the magic melding of the two. Knowing that each of them came into the world with their own personalities, I have worked hard to address their unique needs, and it’s exciting to see how that is turning out. As two of them venture off in really big directions and far from home, I feel proud to know they are confident, self-directed people, who are not afraid to take risks. I believe that they grew up knowing that there was a safety net that allowed them to fail and fall, without burning up. That lesson has lead to fairly adventurous people, who seek opportunities to live abroad; who take risks; who are creative and intelligent, in equal doses.  While their lives are their own, I take a certain degree of pride, in knowing I played a major role in raising them.

That pride is forged of a wisdom that does indeed come from age. As I get older, certain things: judgements of myself and other aspects of life, decisions I’ve made in life, paths I’ve chosen, and most importantly: relationships, come into a new focus. It’s a lot easier to let go of things that are not healthy now, than it has been for throughout my life. This is an area that I’ve struggled with for too many years– I still struggle with, but it is becoming easier and easier. I’m slowly learning to let go of the relationships that don’t nurture and support my efforts to be the best me I can be. I’m learning to take clearer responsibility for my part, and own the shit I’ve slung into the fan. I’m learning to not think I can fix or change everything– it isn’t my job, and it often isn’t the right thing to do anyway. Most of my life, I’ve jumped in– often without checking the depth of the water. I’ve found myself embroiled in dramas that suck me down; relationships that drain me; a sense of responsibility to make it all better, even when the mess is clearly to big for one person, and leaves me with a prevailing sense that I fall short.

While I haven’t mastered this tendency, I am getting much better at really checking the waters. I pause more often now, and take it in; I dip a toe in to see what the temperature is and whether I really want to swim. I apologize when I slip up, and try to own only what is mine to own, instead of the whole muck and mess. I seek connections that are healthier and clearer for me… and, while I’m still someone who will work on a relationship long past when others may advise, I’ve gotten better at accepting the messages that others give. I’m less inclined to keep pushing, when someone’s let me know they aren’t in it anymore. That, is age working in my favor.

There are some things that may never change, and that’s a lesson that comes with age as well. A very wise person has asked me over and over:

“What if you knew right now, that this (Insert: relationship, person, situation, etc.) was never going to change? What do you want to do?”

“Ultimate acceptance.” That has always been an incredibly challenging thing for me. Throughout my life, when I came up against something that wasn’t working– which I wanted to work, I’ve pushed. I’ve invested my efforts in moving the mountain. Finally, I’m learning to sit a little stiller, and accept that the mountains might not change. Perhaps I need to go around them, or over them, or just sit and make peace with the view.

I can be silly...

I can be silly…

This prompt stirs a lot of questions in my mind, that I’ve been grappling with throughout my life. They are questions that I write about all the time. Aging, for me, calls up all of the things that challenge me most: letting go, acceptance, making peace, moving on, choices.  These are questions that don’t seem to lose their edges, no matter how much I examine them. I’ve looked back; I’ve focused on my present, and I’ve tried to look forward. Maybe, with age, I’m simply learning to accept the edges. I’ve realized that I’m still going to bang up against those edges in the dark, sometimes; I may always fight an inner battle to make peace with some of the edges… Today, I know the edges are there, and I’m finally making peace with them. My number is 51, and there’s a whole lot in it.

I can be face the years... with humility and grace.

I can be face the years… with humility and grace.

Note: Yesterday, I heard this old “song” on the radio. I couldn’t believe it came out in 1997– nearly twenty years ago! Long before the internet made “viral” something that so many chase, this went viral in newspapers, on the air, on computers and finally as this popular song. It’s the original: “21 things I’d do different,” “words to my children,” “wisdoms I’ve learned,” and all the other clever advice pieces that make it to Huffington post, YouTube, and other viral spin doctors.  Every word of this, sounds different to me now that I’m older.  When this came out, Baz Lurhmann had not yet done the spectacular musicals that he’s become famous for: Moulin Rouge, Romeo and Juliet, etc., but everyone was listening to “Wear Sunscreen.” Of further note: Now that I do in fact have more wrinkles, too many freckles and sun spots, and have had one bout of pre-cancerous skin lesion… I wish I’d worn more sunscreen.

*     *     *

If you like the posts on Tales From the Motherland, please subscribe to this blog. The link is in the upper right hand corner of this post. Then, check out Tales From the Motherland on Facebook and hit Like. I’d love to hit 400 likes there this year; I appreciate the support! I’m on Twitter; Follow me and be dazzled by my mostly lame witty and clever Tweets. If I don’t follow you back, send me a tweet reminder and I will. I often miss the cues, when new people join. I’m older, and slower that way.

© 2014 Please note, that content and all images on this page are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless otherwise noted. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.

Any ads at the bottom of this page are not endorsed by Tales From the Motherland. I am just not willing to pay extra to have them not appear there.

About Dawn Quyle Landau

Mother, Writer, treasure hunter, aging red head, and sushi lover. This is my view on life, "Straight up, with a twist––" because life is too short to be subtle! Featured blogger for Huffington Post, and followed on Twitter by LeBron James– for reasons beyond my comprehension.
This entry was posted in Awareness, Blog, Blogging, Daily Observations, Honest observations on many things, Life, Mothers, Musings, My world, Parenting, Personal change, Relationships, Tales From the Motherland, Weekly Writing Challenge, Women, Women's issues, Writing, Writing challenge and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

20 Responses to Weekly Writing Challenge: Age: What’s In A Number?

  1. The Waiting says:

    I love it when you write these reflective posts about your life as a person but also as a mother, Dawn. I’m a little obsessed with aging too; I love to watch my daughter grow, but I have to remind myself that I’m growing right along with her.


    • It’s not always easy to remember that, as we’re in it… we get so caught up in watching them grow, their milestones, their years passing, that we hardly notice our own. Thanks for the kind feedback, Emily. I love when you visit TFTM. 😉


  2. jgroeber says:

    Love this. I had to wait to post my Daily Challenge Prompt before reading yours because I’m always so inspired by you. What you write just grabs me in the gut. You are both what I fear (my children will continue to grow up no matter how much I’d like to hold onto their youth!) and what I hope for (see: fear, above.) What I think I appreciate the most is how you are defining and redefining yourself. Thank you for sharing and leading the way.


    • Thanks so much Jen. That is such a wonderful comment, and means so much to me. I write some of these posts and feel like such a whiner… wonder if others are reading the post and thinking “not again!” So, it really means a lot to me when you, Emily, and others find something positive in my words. Thanks for that. xo


  3. Great photos and words. You look terrific.


  4. Dawn, this piece pretty much covered everything. You were previously concerned that you’d started writing later than you should have. I reblogged a great piece today that you might have read. If you haven’t, I thought it was good enough to reblog so you might like it.


  5. susanissima says:

    Love how you write close to your life, reflecting on a process that each of us are facing. And also how you found value in where you’ve been, are, will be. There’s freedom in that perspective. For some reason it reminded me of this quote that someone posted on FB a while back: If you don’t like your life, change it; you’re not a tree.” Well, like a tree, there are some things we do have to accept in life and can’t change, as you mention, but mostly, the world really is what we make of it. To play or not to play, love or not to love, stay or not to stay are some of the questions. Hugs.


    • Wow, I love that quote, Susan… hadn’t heard it before! Just wonderful though! Thanks for the kind encouragement; your words always mean so much. 😉 I can only write the way I write; so, I’m glad it resonates with some readers. xo


  6. Cathy Ulrich says:

    Beautiful post, Dawn. I, too, struggle with aging – sometimes moreso than at others. It’s true, the challenge is to accept and work with the edges in all their scariness and rewards. And you’re really brave to tackle them in your wonderful writings here. I like to live in the land of De Nile and poke my head up from time-to-time and peek in the mirror (Yikes!). But I suppose one can’t think about it all the time either… I agree – acceptance is the key and, for the most part I’ve got that one down. At least for today! 🙂


    • Oh, don’t get me wrong, Cathy! I live in De Nile a lot too! Hence, the many, many years of NOT noticing the face in the mirror! The years of being swept up in the kids, etc. I look… cautiously! I guess, it’s just all catching up with me, and whether I look or not, I can’t deny the changes. In being able to accept things, frankly, your way ahead of most of the pack! 😉 Thanks for your wonderful support… over and over again. xo


  7. Robin says:

    Such a post. You have learned so much over the years it seems and recognize that. And it sounds like your amazingly balanced adult children have proved you have been a great influence. Love what you say about learning to let go of baggage and moving on. I’m discovering now this needs to be a priority in my life. When to let go, when to hang on to the past…Sometimes needs revisiting. Anyway, I think about aging a lot too and feel it’s also a mindset..not a number…Thanks for sharing!


    • Thanks so much Robin! From your photo, you look pretty young… so if you are working on these things now, you are WAY ahead of me!! I try telling my daughter that all the time. Somehow, I do think women tend to hold on more than most men. Not black and white, but as a trend. If I could sprinkle fairy dust on her and wish one thing, I’d hope that she gets the whole letting go piece, MUCH sooner than I am. It’s an ongoing lesson… Yes, to revisit over and over again! We are always letting go, somehow. Thanks so much for your thoughtful comment. I love hearing what others think about the stuff I’m chewing on. 😉


  8. Valery says:

    Don’tcha just wish we knew all this stuff back when we were young(er)? I definitely grabbed a few cacti along the way.

    Love this post and the photos. Letting go… that’s a big one, and not just emotionally. I suspect I’m not the only one who would benefit from learning how to let go of Stuff: clutter in my closets and in my head. I failed to appreciate how blissfully clear and uncluttered everything was when I was young(er).

    I love reading the great comments here, too. I’ll remember that tree quote.


    • Yes… it’s both emotional and physical clutter that fills up my life! I am working on it. It does seem that if I get my office cleaned, I feel better– but uncluttering emotional and physical is a huge effort! Thanks for your (always) wonderful support, Valery.


  9. unfetteredbs says:

    Beautiful writer,beautiful woman


  10. Pingback: The Elders of Us | Wired With Words


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s