#MicroblogMondays: Bumping Down The Stairs

Yesterday I returned from a fabulous holiday with my family, now almost a clan, and here I am reflecting on the joys of the second half of life.

All that I will 'achieve' in the worldly sense is now behind me. I have more 'stuff' than I know what to do with, and no desire to engage in the duallist ding-dongs of the days when I believed it was better to be right than happy.

It feels like my ship of state is sailing over the horizon, but the journey holds no fear. I have found real and lasting things to love: precious time with my family, the pleasure of a country walk the fun of playing silly games with my grandchildren ...

There was a point rounding a headland on the beautiful Somerset coast where I just stopped, drew a deep breath and allowed simple gratitude to well up. To Whom, I'm not sure, but for what? Well, at sixty-four, still being able to bump down the stairs on my behind in a race with my three-year old granddaughter that I didn't even want ro win.

 

 

 

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