I was having a chat the other day about the complexities of getting older. How the whole gamut and meaning of everything can get lost and what replaces it can be a disparate searching in some made up character. A mid life crisis I call it.

Man alive I look back on myself and think what a fool. I still reflect and think the same way about a lot of stuff but not the way I do about a particular period of time. Yep, I had the car, the attitude, a whole load of stuff going on. The centre, the wisdom, where was that?

Fortunately it didn’t last long. The confusion began to evaporate in the ether the more I realised I wasn’t being true to myself. The irony was that I went back further than I thought to find it.

Someone once said to me that as you grow into middle age you take on more of the charectoristics you had as a child rather than the teenage years or the so called maturity that trapped you in later years. In essence you can go back to become that person you always really were if you’re prepared to accept that. I did, and honestly? I think it’s great advice, you realise a purity with a sense of wisdom to match.

Anyhow, here’s a wee poem about the mid life crisis and the stuff that goes with it.


Where starts my fear is still not clear

I’m in the here and now so clear and present

Looking fruitful and forever youthful

Can you not see I’m sure this is me

Though I must admit I have this nagging feeling

This sense of age has got me reeling


I run, I dance and in truth I take my life by chance

No time to reassess or look behind me

An instinct to flee can you not hear my plea surely you can see?

I’ll rid this affliction by creating a friction

Immediate, necessary now, why where when I don’t know how


Stop pass I no longer have a passion for this fashion

I hear the call within no more crying out for attention when love for myself becomes too great to mention

Time to be and simply see

To love life that’s the simple difference for which there should be no fee

My manifestation a quieter escalation

As I prepare for my departure

Simplicity without complicity that’s the key

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