Halfway to Sixty-Six
A broken foot, a quiet summer, and the comforting illusion of time.
The list of things I wanted to do after coming back to Berlin remains untouched. Not because I forgot about it, but because I stumbled, broke my foot, and have been spending most of my time either on the sofa or in bed ever since.
Occasionally, my husband drives me to a restaurant or café so I can enjoy the small pleasures of life. Sometimes I take a cab to the office to spend half a day with colleagues. It’s an expensive way to get around – but oh my, I’m so tired of being home 24/7 for the past three weeks.
I’ve been forced to take a step back – or rather, not take any steps at all. It’s humbling to realize how much movement we take for granted, not just physically, but mentally, too. I have to sit with my emotions and find ways to work through the frustration of being stuck. I wanted to fall back in love with this city, discover new places, and enjoy a summer outdoors. But sometimes life gets in the way, and your choices shrink. If I want to recover, I need to be still. To stay calm.
I don’t know about you, but I think about mortality a lot. For decades, I was deeply afraid of death. The thought of being gone from one day to another, not knowing if there was more after our time on earth, triggered all the emotions. I am still not eager to meet the finishing line but I am not terrified anymore. I’m not even sure when this change happened. Now I look at the limited time we have with gratitude and the will to enjoy it as much as possible.
There is this German song saying that your life only really starts when you’re turning 66. I am 33 years old. Half way there, so to say.
Assuming the song is right (and if I’m lucky), I still have another 33 years before my prime even begins. My current lifetime times two. The thought that I’m already looking back on a long life and can’t even remember the first years, actually gives me hope. There are so many more days to fill with mundanity, excitement, boredom and food. Imagine your life really starting then… It makes me smile from ear to ear.
Especially now, in this vulnerable state I’m in, the promise of time feels calming. Even though we never know how many days will follow today, it’s comforting to hold onto the illusion of another 33 years before we reach our best self.
So for now, I’ll be content. Grateful for the days that bring a little more excitement, but also thankful that I can work from home, have a stack of unread books nearby, and a home that’s cozy and warm.
This might not be the summer I was dreaming of, but I am sure I will make the most out of it anyway.
Mit sechsundsechzig Jahren, da fängt das Leben an
Mit sechsundsechzig Jahren, da hat man Spaß daran
Mit sechsundsechzig Jahren, da kommt man erst in Schuss
Mit sechsundsechzig ist noch lange nicht Schluss
At sixty-six, that's when life begins
At sixty-six, that's when you have fun
At sixty-six, that's when you get into shape
At sixty-six, it's not over by a long shot
When do you feel most alive?
How do you regain your appreciation for life during tough times?
Hi Martina,
Your "Halfway to Sixty-Six" musing is full of things that speak to me.
First of all, I'm sorry to hear about your broken foot. I'm an active person, so I can imagine the challenge of sitting still for weeks. I think you are right, though, that it's an opportunity to re-assess, to find what you are grateful for, to accept life rather than resist it. It sounds like you are already on your way to finding a perspective that will help you heal.
Second, I'm 65, so to think I'll be hitting my prime next May is exciting. I've come to recognize what a blessed and special time in my life these last several years have been, so if it's going to get even better, my cup of joy and good fortune will surely be overflowing.
Also, in the 25 years that I taught German, I used "Mit 66 Jahren" plenty of times with my students as a fun and catchy learning experience. It's nice to be prompted to remember just how much I like that song.
The movement of time fascinates me. I still haven't figured it out. We know that "time stands still" in moments of crisis, or when we get in the flow of our creativity or any work that we immerse ourselves in - suddenly it's hours later and we didn't even realize it. I love the seeming dichotomy of Chronos vs. Kairos.
I think about death a lot, too. I don't fear it, I understand it as a transition from my soul with this body to my soul without it. But since I am intensely physical, I do appreciate this life very much. The fact that you included food as one of the things you want to fill your (many) remaining days with made me laugh - it sounds just like me. My wife always tells me I'm so focused on food. But anyway, one of the Stoics recommended making friends with death early (earlier?) in life, because it helps you maintain a healthy perspective on things here. "Impermanence is what makes all things sweet" is a line from one of my poems, and it is certainly true for me. As a kid, I was crushed that every new year brought my parents that much closer to death, meaning I would lose their comforting presence. Now that they are on the "other side" and send messages, I see that my fears were unfounded.
Finally, I feel most alive every morning when I get up: each day holds so much promise that I sometimes sleep restlessly in the anticipation of the next morning. I also feel alive when I commune with nature, or share little joys with people I love. And as you have discovered, gratitude is a way to regain appreciation for life during tough times.
I hope I didn't overwhelm you with my response, but your post really resonated with me.
Thank you! Herzlichen Dank!
Joe