Late Summer Chicken

canadian blog awards

Winner LGBT category

 

In a little less than a month,

I will be forty-nine.

I am tempted to say,

forty-nine years,

young,

even though I find that way of phrasing it, hopelessly cheesy and I’m not fond of cheesy.

because I feel young,

or rather,

I feel like,

I am,

at a young phase,

of my life.

Ok,

this may sound weird,

but,

it struck me,

yesterday,

while I was,

in the shower,

a spot of frequent flashes of inspiration, and the occasional epiphany:-)

In many ways,

I am at a phase of my life,

somewhat like my twenties,

big changes,

going from a zone of comfort,

to new,

unknown,

territory,

I have a job,

which is,

well,

a bit,

loserish,

and,

I am in many ways,

being creative through,

the largess of others.

I should be scarred,

of failure,

of financial calamity,

of not having what it,

takes.

In my twenties,

I wasn’t particularly,

ambitious,

but,

I feared failure,

things not going as I thought,

they would or should.

I don’t have that now.

Don’t get me wrong,

being poor and dependent on the kindness of others,

not strangers, Blanche Dubois, I am not.

can be humbling,

and frustrating.

But one thing,

I have learned,

in my few hundred,

walks around the block,

failing,

is NOT,

the end of the world,

not trying,

is worse.

Plus,

living almost five decades,

has thought me a few things,

mostly about myself,

what I am,

capable of,

and,

not,

capable of,

my strengths,

my weaknesses,

at forty,

almost,

nine,

I  know me,

better,

and,

I think most do,

and,

if you’re lucky,

you like you better.

You may not be,

a Spring chicken,

but,

you’re sort of a,

late Summer Chicken:-)

If you learned,

from,

your school of hard knocks,

and,

have patience with who you are,

how you process,

how you grieve,

diving into,

the shallow end,

isn’t as,

scary,

you understand,

the buoyancy of your belly,

and,

you have muscle memory,

it may burn,

and,

pinch,

and be even,

quite painful,

but,

you know,

how to judge,

just how shallow,

the shallow,

is,

and,

you also know,

the truth,

of time heals all wounds,

and,

of,

what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,

if not now,

than,

then.

At forty-nine,

the chicken has crossed,

many roads.

All this to say,

I know,

that I will write this book.

I know,

that I will be a more than adequate photographer,

I know also,

that I trust my instinct,

and that,

for,

the really important things,

the major forks in the road,

I can trust,

it.

I don’t fear,

changing my mind,

looking foolish,

I don’t like,

looking foolish,

but,

I don’t fear it.

I have lots of healthy,

self criticism,

but,

I don’t beat myself up,

about motives,

my intentions are,

not selfish,

and,

I am more patient,

and,

have more belief,

in myself,

than,

ever before,

I feel good about,

myself,

my choices,

and those who share,

my life.

I feel good.

This late Summer chicken,

still has lots,

of walk and talk,

and,

power to learn and change.

and learning to trust,

my eye,

my ‘vision’,

I know I can do.

Late Summer chickenhood,

is good.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

Published by

Bookish Butch

I am a bookish butch in my very early fifties. I live in Montréal and always have. I used to run a small used bookstore. Reading keeps me sane. My latest jiggie is photography, book project in the works, living the dream

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