65 plus

I’m 65 today.

For most of my life it was the age at which you became a ‘pensioner’. For better or worse, it was totemic.

And so turning 65 has a certain resonance for me, even though it makes no material difference these days.

Now, the only significance of this birthday is that it puts me into a new official age group with no upper limit. I’m now ‘65+’. I’m never going to move into another age bracket: I’ll be ‘65+’ forever!

How liberating!

I guess that means I can keep doing my stuff indefinitely, with no cut-off point.

No fixed point, too, at which society will re-categorise me (age-wise) and expect anything different from me as a result.

Frankly, I feel 55. Perhaps that’s typical of people at 65+? (I’ve only just got here, so I can’t tell you.)

I wouldn’t mind being 55 again: I could probably make a better fist of the last ten years if I had another crack at them now, older and wiser.

But reaching 65 and feeling 55 seems like a pretty good outcome.

As for my new age category – well, I’m focusing on the ‘+’

I want a lot of that ‘+’

There's so much to do.



Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash