Is It Ever Too Late To Start Writing?
No, no, and no again!
The playwright George Bernard Shaw once stated the following: “We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” I could not agree more with the playwright. I am not a fan of Mr. Shaw, even though he produced Pygmalion, an enduring and enchanting play for our modern history.
Mr. Shaw has many interesting quotes about life and making the most of it. What is my beef with him? He was a eugenicist. Yes, we can examine his views contextually, but I suspect he would not be fond of those, no longer contributing to society. Be that as it may, I give him credit for acknowledging the importance of pursuing purpose throughout our lifecycle.
People want to live longer, as I have written about many times. Yet, when they arrive at pivotal points in their lives, often, the implicit question is “What is next?” Many respond to that question with enthusiasm. Others, sadly, do not. I refuse to say “cannot” because the truth is often “do not.” Unless “cannot” has genuine merit, and there are times it does, excuses abound, often cloaked in a victim mentality.
As a woman of a certain age, I never thought twice about pausing my life by a specific time. Like many Baby Boomers, we do not view “sixty-five, and you arrive.” Arrive where? For the other side to materialize? Not me. Never has been, never will be.
Instead, I have developed new endeavors throughout my fifties, a significant one of becoming a writer/author. Not only did I begin, but I have fallen in love with this new venture.
Some might ask, “Why?” As I often answer, “Why not?” Quite frankly, the question has never been posed to me, but if it was, my sassy response stays alive and well.
Being a mature woman, I believe that life experiences have been my most significant sources for writing. Younger people, far more talented than me, may not need a long history, but I cannot imagine penning articles and stories without it.
My trials and tribulations are not only the bedrock for who I am and who I will become but who I am as a writer. Like any muscle, exercise strengthens it through relentless tension and struggle. You might view writing the same way. I continue to push myself at the ripe young age of sixty-three. By furthering my endurance, I expect to see my writing chiseled without interruption. Life is a constant state of flux. For me, the only way is the evergreen pursuit of refinement.
In October, I will turn sixty-four and do not plan on shutting the door. By that time, if I have the grace of being on this earth with an intact brain, I hope to compose many more stories and articles. By sixty-five, hopefully, alive, even more of equal if not better quality.
Being older does not mean acquiescing to complacency. Like any muscle, if you do not exercise it, what happens? Weakness, atrophy? Well, that is not for me. I suspect many people who are older and communicate on these pages would agree.
Those of you who are closeted writers, seasoned adults like me, do not allow fear, resignation, or laxity to derail you in your attempted debut. That is the easy way out. Challenge yourself, write a few words, and notice what unfolds. You might desire to compose a few sentences, then a paragraph, and next, not a surprise, a story.
If something interferes, ask yourself, “What is it?” Examine it closely and write it down. By seeing it on paper, you might say to yourself, “What do I have to lose?” You could say, “What is the worse thing that will happen?” Penning such thoughts can diminish the fear, hesitation, or whatever else is preventing you from blossoming. Go ahead! Give it a try! You will be pleasantly surprised. Take it from a not-so-special person who keeps propelling herself forward. Again, if you ask, “Why?” Well, of course, I will respond with, “Why not?”