March 14, 2012


I came across a column written in the March edition of “Good Housekeeping” by Dominique Browning. About a year ago, I commented on her last book “Slow Love: How I Lost My Job, Put on My Pajamas, and Found Happiness.” She was once the editor of the now defunct “House and Gardens” and I’ve been following her career since the magazine’s demise. I like the way she shares her vulnerabilities. By doing so she invites me to examine my own. In her recent column, “The Other Side of 50” (“Good Housekeeping” pg. 111) she laughs at the changes time has wrought on her and her perspective.

          “Now that my body is aging, I’d like to apologize to everyone I ever snapped at for moving too slowly…

          Now that I truly understand how little time we have in this world, I would like to apologize for every moment of impatience at how much time things – and people seemed to need. (“Good Houskeeping” pg. 111)


Her admissions set me to thinking. As I am well past the other side of 50, what have I learned now that time has wiped the dew of youth from my eyes. A number of thoughts came to mind, too many to share here. But a few may be worth recording:

          “Now that I am 75, I’m grateful to have escaped the certainty that comes with being 16. Instead, I’m happy to discover the world still holds mystery for me.

          Now that my figure has collapsed under the force of gravity, I’m delighted to be rid of six-inch heels and skin tight jeans that allowed me neither to breathe, walk nor sit down.

          Now that I am old, I’m no longer nervous about going to a party where I don’t know anyone. I like talking to strangers.

          Now that I am very old, my eyes no longer see black and white so clearly. In my world there’s a lot of grey. Grey is a very peaceful color, I’ve discovered.”

I’m convinced that being on the “other side” of any marker can be a good thing. It usually means some wisdom has been gained.