Reading Naula O’Failain’s memoir Are You Somebody on vacay. I’ve read it and her sequel, Almost There a few times.
How does an individual measure success these days?
How do baby boomers who strove for parents’ approval and to do right by everyone right into retirement age measure personal satisfaction? Do we allow ourselves to feel any joy in these times with governments that appear to have no conscience?
Are we content with the modest comforts our middle class strivings provided? Does activism remain vital or are we passing on the torch and allowing ourselves the private contentment of hobbies–Sunday painting, learning to garden or golf?
I don’t know about others of my generation. At 3 a.m. I found myself sleepless and got up to finesse a poem. It takes a very long time sometimes to let go of a poem in progress. No matter what your age, if you are serious about your work you never rely on your old hits to keep your rep. Meanwhile, yes, at my wise old age, I do know how to stop and smell the cactus along the way.