Wednesday, July 28, 2010

In the Fullness of Time

I recently read a book called "In the Fullness of Time," a collection of essays by women reflecting on aging.

This passage particularly touched me as I thought about my daughter, newly in love, and I shared it with her, hoping she will appreciate the lovely time she is experiencing:
The woman looks at the pink and sees that she will never be a bride or pregnant, and if she is lucky enough to fall in love, it won't be the way love was when she was younger, because when she was younger she had time. Simple, beautiful, abundant time.

These passages are from Vivian Gornick:

An aging face can never mean to a man what it means to a woman, as youthful beauty has never been a provider of the goods of life for men as it has been for women.

It is not, I believe, the fear of death that threatens but the fear that our lives are not being lived; or rather, that we are not living them.

A young woman needs to do nothing to gain attention and consideration. She need only be. Her unadorned existence provides interest and animation, in return for which she receives unearned privilege. For a middle-aged woman it is otherwise, as she watches low-level attention (and some unearned privilege) evaporate from her life as a result of no longer looking young.

When I was young, there always seemed to be a crowd of people (mostly men) waiting around to hear what I had to say. Today, when I'm out among people, I find myself either ignored or patronized. Men talk to me as if I'm an idiot. It's as though I've committed a transgression by getting older, and I'm being isolated for it.


Any thoughts Ladies?

4 comments:

Rob-bear said...

"An aging face can never mean to a man what it means to a woman."

Good reason for an ageing male Bear to stay out of this.

正洪玲正洪玲正洪玲 said...

you got it!i like it!!!..................................................................

謝翁穎翰毓珍 said...

每日都有新日光,每日都有新希望。.................................................

文王廷 said...

生存乃是不斷地在內心與靈魂交戰;寫作是坐著審判自己。. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .