In a little over a week, I will be 55 years old. Fifty bloody five!
To some reading this, such an age will be considered not just old, but ancient. However to me, as someone who has always had problems showing any kind of maturity, it’s far from it. I certainly don’t feel old nor do I act it as most people who know me well will be only to happy to testify.
Yet amazed though I am to have made it this far along my own particular rocky road, the truth is that fifty five is a significant milestone for one very specific reason. For had I stayed in the RAF and completed my full service, January the 7th would be the age at which my time in uniform would have come to an end and I’d have retired. And by retired, I mean just that. I would never have worked again.
Now even though I left the RAF many moons ago, I recently realised that I’ve continued, albeit subconsciously, to work toward this point and in doing so, I also realised that with an increasingly full diary for 2014 and beyond, I’m not only going to be working longer than I had been planning, I’m also going to be busier than I ever really expected to be. Not just now, but at any point!
As a naturally lazy sort this was, as you can imagine, something of a shock. But as I reflected on it, it suddenly struck me that it might actually be a good thing. After all, I’m way past the point where I care what anyone says or thinks about me and since most people expect me to be a certain type of person on account of my favoured subject matter, this could be the ideal time to start playing up to that particular persona. Or to put it another way, I’m going to start having some proper fun with this career I’ve somehow forged for myself.
Therefore, on this day where resolutions are made, here is mine; from this day forth I will be both living and writing armed with a new sense of purpose and freedom. If that doesn’t sit comfortably with some people, guess what?
So happy new year folks. I hope 2014 turns out to be as epic for each of you as I plan it to be for me!
Bring it on.