I'm 33 years old and, in my estimation, the strongest I've ever been. My body is healthy, my mind robust and my spirit calmer than it's been my entire history. There's confidence that comes from being here at this point in time and knowing that, as a result, my powers can only grow stronger.
From here on out though, society will try to make me redundant: First as a woman as I approach and then bypass the healthy age to bear children, then as a professional as I cross my sixties and finally, when my body begins to fail, as a valuable member of my community. At each of these stages, I fear that forces will attempt to phase me out in some way or the other.
My innate need to grow will progress in parallel with society's need to set me out to pasture and at some point, I imagine, a deadlock will be reached between these two swelling, yet opposing, forces. I will then, like many others fearful of ageing, be faced with a choice. To concede that I'm redundant and fade way. Or recognize the full weight of my acquisitions - the knick-knacks of experience, scrapes from different falls & nuggets of epiphanies - and hunker down; say 'I'm not moving, bitch' and insist on staying relevant.
Crossroads come up within sight as I try to guess correctly, which choice will gain critical mass first.
|jim hamann photography|