it's funny how everyone
wants to appear wealthy
on instagram, like the only
trickle down that happens
is the mainstreaming of
luxury brands and luxury
attitudes no matter if they
have a basis in reality or not.
the pressure to stay unhealthily thin
for women especially, to be forever
beautiful, to be obsessed with image
over substance enveloped in a luxury
obsessed society, it can feel relentless.
when my daughters were young i felt
like shielding their eyes every time
we passed a magazine rack, but
the onslaught is every where.
in a way, i'm glad i lost my health,
and i'm glad i lost my fortune,
and maybe even glad i lost a family
that was always mired in dysfunction
every single day. i am glad i'm getting
old, or at least what i thought old was
when i still was young, because i don't
care about any of that stuff anymore.
it feels like walking out of a prison
where you don't notice the bars
until you live outside of them.
they say getting old and losing
the trappings of youth is a narcissist's
worse enemy, it's like a death, but i
feel like getting old, it's freedom,
freedom to be who you are
and though i want to always
be a better me, this security
in knowing that if i never get
the least bit better in any way,
if today is my life's high-water mark
and as good as i'm ever going to get
i am more than sufficient exactly as i
am at this very moment; i've always
been enough, but now i finally realize it.
it's like the first half of our lives
are spent being enveloped by a culture
of crass consumerism, obsession with status
and wealth, and having had it all and lost it
really makes one realize that that **** doesn't
equate with happiness. if we get lucky, though
it may seem like misfortune from the outside
looking in, maybe the second half of our lives
is about learning who we really are as people,
and where we came from, and that we're
good enough just as we are now, and
these trappings slowly falling away,
and the relentless and inescapable
momento mori of the calendar
is a road-map to freedom rather
than something to fill us with dread,
and our own worth is not defined
by anything external to who we are.
it's a beautiful day.