Tim Curry supposedly said that the dreams of youth are the regrets of maturity.
I try not to have too many regrets, but sometimes it’s harder than others to stay juicy.
I recently turned 59. And something about realizing it was my last year before turning 60 made me reflective. The sixties are the decade of retirement and endings…I mean, I know in my head that’s not true, but that little negative voice popped up and said I’d better take stock of what I’ve done in life.
Or maybe it was the drivers’ license.
I live in South Carolina. In its wisdom, my state refused to make its drivers get the kind of license that the rest of the country uses because it’s hard to counterfeit, which I guess we need in this post-9/11 world. But South Carolina thumbed its nose at the Feds until it realized that meant we couldn’t travel without passports. So now we need to get new driver’s licenses.
It took forever and about 300 pieces of paper to prove I was who I said I was. The woman at the photo counter said I could take my glasses off. And I could smile. I had some witty quip. Don’t know what it was, but while I said it, my mouth fell open into a wide laugh, my eyes squinted, and my chin tucked, making about five extra chins. And, click! There’s your photo!
I look like a pasty pumpkin with raisin eyes.
Think I’m exaggerating? My husband looked at it and visibly shuddered.
Try living with THAT for 9 years when the thing expires!
So, of course, I obsessed and stared at the photo all the way home.
But what if it did? Photos don’t lie, right?
And if I’m wrong about the way I look, what else am I wrong about?
And then, I thought about the (very) long list of things I may never achieve:
- Be a great dancer
- Be a star athlete
- Play the piano
- Start a nonprofit
- Run for office
- Get my novel published
I am realizing that I will never be great. At anything. That being good – or even average — is going to have to be good enough.
Business books tell you how to go from good to great. I’m learning how to go from great to good.
But ultimately, I think I’d rather keep falling on my ass after the leap than sitting on my ass refusing to even try.
And that driver’s license? I got it retaken. And I did smile, but not the full-on chortle that brought out the extra chins. It’s not going to be on any magazine covers, but it’s not going to scare the children, either.