You've been gathering evidence your whole life. The story of you, winding it's way across your skin and within your frame. Adding richness and interest to what used to be smooth and non-descript. The confirmation that something happened here.
Your body has become a visual checklist of experience; every imprint worth earning. Every line a tapestry thread. The mural of you.
You've reached the infancy of old age and this may very well be the best part.
You finally have the freedom to take all you know, all you've learned, celebrated and suffered, and launch it somewhere unexpected.
You're smarter, braver, hotter, sexier and funnier because of the richness of your life. You laugh harder because you've known grief, and you love deeply because it turns out that's the only way it's done right. Wisdom has calmed and warmed you.
Everyone knows the story of the famous painter Grandma Moses and how she didn't begin seriously painting until the age of 78. She's the go-to story for it's never too late to follow your passion, but I see it differently:
Her gift simply wasn't ready before. She wasn't on that chapter yet. She actually began painting at the exact age she was meant to. Life had finally given her all the tools and experience she needed to put it into picture form.
She famously said that if she hadn't painted, she would have raised chickens.
I suppose we all need a back-up plan.
But please don't let the security of farm life rob you of your reckless abandon.
Masterpieces await.
And there's plenty of room left on the canvas.
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