“Between the ages of twenty and forty we are engaged in the process of discovering who we are, which involves learning the difference between accidental limitations which it is our duty to outgrow and the necessary limitations of our nature beyond which we cannot trespass with impunity. Few of us can learn this without making mistakes, without trying to become a little more of a universal man than we are permitted to be. It is during this period that a writer can most easily be led astray by another writer or by some ideology. When someone between twenty and forty says, apropos of a work of art, “I know what I like,” he is really saying “I have no taste of my own but accept the taste of my cultural milieu,” because, between twenty and forty, the surest sign that a man has a genuine taste of his own is that he is uncertain of it. After forty, if we have not lost our authentic selves altogether, pleasure can again become what it was when we were children, the proper guide to what we should read.”
W. H. Auden, The Dyer’s Hand
__________
“You will be surprised how much your ideas improve as you grow older. The ability to draw is not the only ability which improves with time. The ability to create ideas improves as you yourself mature.”
Charles M. Schulz, My Life With Charlie Brown
__________
It’s a relief not to pretend: to have total disinterest in impressing others.
The greatest satisfaction of being 40 is the focus on getting closer to me.
I kinda know what I like now. That means the rest of the universe of noise can just fall away as I gather around me what is truly interesting.
By saying no to most of what is being made, published, marketed, sold, spoken, sung, suggested and shouted I can turn to the production of my own ideas.
This has not abated my curiosity. Rather, I am careful to curate what passes my way and have greater confidence in seeking out new threads to pull.
I am starting to think of this as consuming with intention. It is not switching on the TV or booting up social media to step straight into browse mode.
It’s more of a long amble, where I stop and look at what catches my eye.
I curate at walking pace rather than in hyperspace.
I might let most of the world pass me by, but I am meticulous in paying attention to and recording my own streaming subconscious.
I am building my own world of ideas.
I do not dine alone. Every day, two illustrious guests join me.
I like the idea of Wystan Auden and Charles Schultz sitting at my kitchen table eating, drinking and sharing stories.
As the host I’d be content to sit back and smile. Trying not to interrupt as they converse, I would bask in the brightness of their ideas.
Thank god for books.
Auden and Schultz are both immortal: they can be summoned with the simple turning of the page.
