Wednesday 19 September 2007

"Act your age"

I find that statement problematic. I do not deny that part of the problem lies in my own desire not to be categorized or put in a pigeon-hole. But the big question that I've always had, ever since the first time I heard someone (likely my parents, not their fault) say that to me, is: "What does that mean?" "How do I find out what that means?" "Who decides if I am or am not 'acting my age' according to whose definition?"

Is there some behavioral rubric that is used to determine specific age-related personality traits? Am I just supposed to look around at all of the other schlebs in my age range and compare? Do I get to include life experience in with age range? And who does decide, anyway? Why should it not be me? What is so wrong with not acting like a cynical 30-something on the other side of her first mid-life crisis? Is it so wrong that I have no desire to pretend that I am comfortable with the behavior patterns of many people who are 5-10 years younger than me?

Many many questions which will stop now as they become whiny and self-serving or bitchy after a while, and I have better things to do today.

Yesterday morning as I was waiting in the drips coming from windblown leaves by my bus stop, I watched the pups in the yard at hand and wanted nothing more than to go to them and rub my hands and face in their rain covered fur. The smell of wet dog would have stayed all day long, calming me out of my anger and rage and sense of displacement. Taken me back to my childhood and the heavy smell of the large red dog without whom I have no memory before the age of 15. Reminded me of where it is safe, where it is always warm, even under the sheets of rain that came down last night and threatened to drown me walking from the backdoor to the driveway. They sat there, the pups, wagging their tails, ears down, noses pointed in my direction as if smelling my desire to walk over and scratch their backs, and their thick ears, rub their faces and get fur down my sleeves.

I waited. And stood. And, eventually, the bus came.

No comments: