This weekend I turned 60. Part of me is wondering how that happened. Obviously, I knew the day would arrive. However, for it now to be real, to find myself in my sixties, does seem a little surprising. Another year has gone by, and it’s been a good year with lots of amazing memories. And I’m struck by 60 feeling different from other milestone birthdays. It got me wondering. Is being 60 so different from turning 50? Or 40? Of course, it’s ten more years since the last big one. And so, with all that’s happened, here I am. And, suddenly, I’m surprisingly 60!
Frankly, I’ve never really worried about birthdays. It has, for the most part, been just another day. If it’s fallen on a week day, I’ve never taken the day off. Additionally, I’ve not been one for birthday parties. Moreover, as I’ve become older, I’m much less interested in gifts, in things, in having “stuff”.
It has, though, been a time of reflection. Turning 30 was a real milestone, but only because I’d been so ill in the preceding couple of years that I did at times wonder if I would make it to 30. Unsurprisingly, that feels like a very long time ago. At 40 I started my career in Probation. At 50 I was doing all sorts of things. Life was, and continues to be, getting better and better.
My very big fear has not been about getting older. Obviously, there is nothing that any of us can do to stop time and remain the same age forever. You can certainly try, but it won’t stop the clock.
My fear has been about doing old. A fear of choosing not to because I’m too old. Of avoiding new experiences because I’m not as young as I used to be. Eventually, just not, because it’s too much for someone of my age.
Fuck that! I want every day to be an adventure. Critically, I want to be exploring until my very last breath. I may end up being slower. Moreover, it may take me longer to recover. I may also have to plan a little more. I will not, though, stop doing.
I know people who have and who do. People who talk of getting things done by a certain age, of slowing done. Worryingly, they then slow down and start waiting, knowingly or otherwise, for that final destination. The less they do, the harder it all becomes, a slow and inexorable downward spiral.
They say that you either use it or lose it. I believe that to be true, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, existentially.
And what makes me even more determined is a realisation from this year. In May, we went to Madrid for an extended weekend. We took a day trip to Ávila, the very first place where I lived when I moved to Spain in the 1980s. I have a photo from the summer of 1985 in the city’s main square. Visiting that square in 2026 and taking another photo, forty-one years later was fun.
Shockingly, time really does fly. I can remember the summer of 1985 like it was yesterday. I recall the people I was with and when that photo was taken. Forty-one years have flown by.
Soberingly, the realisation was that if the last forty-one years can do so quickly, so can the next forty-one, which means that death will be with me before I know it.
Sorry! And not sorry for being so blunt. It made me realise that I have no time to waste. Critically, I’ve had a blast over the last forty-one years. I’m having a blast now. Unhesitatingly, I want more of the same with less doubt, less of what I don’t want, and more of the very best of everything that I can do.
Earlier this year, I blogged about securing the eulogy that you want. I have been rising to that challenge for a while. Excitingly, it has suddenly become a little more real. Much like suddenly finding I’m surprisingly 60!
So, if you know what to do next, do it now. If you’re not sure, book an initial consultation here, and then take the next step. You know that you can do it, and you know that it makes sense, don’t you?
