I turned 39 this weekend.
(Cake! Yay! And yay for extra wrinkles to prove I’ve earned the cake, through lots of laughing and lots of life. I think the collective noun should be, a fullness of wrinkles. Yes and amen.)
I had this thought:
What if, instead of 39 years, all I had were 39 words? Which 39 would I choose? Which truths would I want to distil for those who matter most to me?
So, 39 on the dot. Here goes:
I have so much to learn. I’d love to hear your life’s top truths? Go on. Stretch out your young tender words. Or scrawl dozens of wrinkly ones. The bonus is that, the older you are, the more you have to say! The best is yet to be.
Thanks for dropping by.
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I wrote this just over a year ago. Still true.