This weekend’s Parade newspaper-insert ragazine largely features Gail Sheehy’s ode to Baby Boom womens' new way of inhabiting the ages from 40 on. She calls us “Seasoned Women” and tells us in anecdotal vignettes and quick-read boxes what we offer to the world and what we want in return.
I hope I don’t sound like my usual cynical self, because I don’t mean to. I do want the stuff she’s telling me I want, and I agree wholeheartedly that “finding a new dream in midlife is about finding a new concept of oneself in the world.” It’s just kind of freaking me out a little that my personal new concept is a darn good hider. Oh, we will coax it out sooner or later, me and my friend Anxiety-monster. And then we will live in a harmonious trio which has room for purpose, wisdom, and the steady, calming practices of twitching in bed, and zoning out on crossword puzzles.
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