Growing Young.
Me on my tricycle.
On account of my birthday, I’m posting these three pics of me that depict my overarching moods with astounding accuracy. Spend enough time with me, and you’ll experience all three sides—especially the raised finger as I’m making a point.For the record, my sense of style hasn’t changed much, either. I still wear nautical stripes and all kinds of hats, and still love bikes. The only thing I don’t do anymore is wear socks with my sandals (at least not in public).Some sentimental insights I’d like to share with you on my special day:Eight years ago today, my mother was admitted into palliative care where she passed away ten days later. Her last birthday wishes to me were to let myself *be*. To set myself free. To not stop myself from expressing my joys and sorrows. To show more of what I feel… of who I am.I’ve spent an overwhelming amount of time thinking about her words. My contemplations have given way to the start of a memoir (it’s no easy feat recollecting my past and its veiled lessons. It’s a work in progress). For now, I share a quote from Pablo Picasso that has resonated with me as of late: “It takes a long time to grow young.”When we’re young, many of us desire to grow up fast, and then desire to remain young once we’re old(er). The way I see it, though, to grow young alludes to more than just age. It speaks to the growing pains in which we learn to become our truer selves as we grow older. To be like when we were young. When we were younglings. Before our parents’ and society’s collective wounds, traumas, and pressures infected us. In other words, it takes a long time to learn how to free our inner-child from the adults we’ve been conditioned to become. It’s twisted, but we are better at being young once we are old. My late mother used to say: ‘Το πιο όμορφο δώρο της ζωής είναι τα νιάτα.’ [The most beautiful gift from life is youth.]To which I always replied: “But it’s only with age that we learn how to appreciate it.”Here’s to growing young!xx
Zanthi
