The great plateau of middle age

It’s October, start of a new year.  Having purchased my blue Oxford diary for 2013-2014, I’ve just put 2012-2013 on the shelf.  The stack is 16 high now, beginning with 1997-1998.

Life has its rhythms, on different time scales.  You get a cup of coffee every few hours, go to bed once a day, put the trash out each Friday… and put the old diary on the stack each October.  The top of my stack is rising around one centimeter per year, so its velocity is slightly less than that of your average tectonic plate.

As a youngster I used to imagine with fascination the plateau of adulthood, that unending time of regular habits, one day after another, year stretching on year.  Who could comprehend such an infinity?  Here at age 58, I think I’ve reached it.

[25 October 2013]

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