In my life, rarely do I have a close call. I’m calculated. I see all outcomes. Ain’t nothing sneaking up on me.
A broad-winged seagull swooped down for food in the Fred Meyer parking lot just as a goatee’d gentleman punched the gas pedal of his Subaru. The man’s arms suddenly raised as if contesting a bad call from a ref, then pulling up without the food, almost a moment too late, was the gull.
As infrequent as near misses are for me, they once were my norm.
Drunk driving. Unhealthy relationships. Unsafe environments. I naively lowered the limbo bar of my life to rock-bottom heights. Then, contorting my body underneath it, I’d gash and blacken myself only to convince and trick myself I hadn’t. And then do it again.
How delusional I was.
Sumner high school just let out, and it’s a sea of black pant-wearing kids out there. Kids, hm. I’ll reword that to something truer. Young adults. With a few ticks left on the clock until they’re voting, non-dependent age means they’re more like peers than children.
How society, media, and Hollywood pedestalizes the tight-skinned and able-bodied youth is peculiar. The idea that the “prime of your life” or “glory days” only exists in the fountain of youth is false. And it sets a precedent for our lives that damages our mindset and expectations as aging inevitably continues past our twenties.
From what I’ve seen, there’s a big wide world out there, and from exploring its facets and evolutions, there’s no better place to be me in the right now.
Thanks for stopping by!
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 