I've just returned from yet another stint in France - but I shall save you all the time of recounting this recent camp experience (there's only so much goblin stories one can take, I understand). Instead I'd like to broach a subject that came up whilst having a chat with my colleagues.
The idea of having 'peaked too early' in life.
I mentioned the fact that I felt that at the ripe age of 17 - I had encountered the best year of my life.
Not that my recent years haven't come up to scratch - they're certainly filled with even more than I could have dreamt of when I were but a youngster, taking her first steps into the world of travel and other good stuff.
But everything had a certain freshness to it.
This is not me just being reminiscent of the halcyon days of youth - I distinctly recall acknowledging and being very aware at the time that I was living a pretty good life (in fact, I felt so touched by Sylvia Plath's writing on the subject* that I was inspired to write a piece on it back then, which shall be forgotten to those long lost tumblr posts of mine...). So it's not just nostalgia tinging my past with sweet memories.
I had the absolute best of times. And none of the responsibility that came with the bad times. I was living a very good life with very good people, experiencing very good things. Everything since has been tinged with the guilt of adulthood and other menial, sad shit.
I'm just lucky that I've continued to appreciate the good moments, even if they're not quite on the ranking of the 17th year... (although they are at least on par).
Yet, here's to even better times.
(P.S. feel free to let me know the ranking of your years, much love to everyone) xoxo
*“Somehow I have to keep and hold the rapture of being 17. Every day is so precious I feel infinitely sad at the thought of all this time melting father and farther away from me as I grow older. Now, now is the perfect time of my life.” - Sylvia Plath.
