How strange it is to age....

It’s a funny thing, getting old.

We think of it as something that happens to other people. Or at least I did.

And now here it is happening to me.

Hitting me like a bin lorry.

Suddenly I find myself having to walk around my house on crutches

Or pushing a trolley as a walking aid.

Suddenly it hurts me to walk to the loo.

Suddenly I feel exhausted just by the effort of doing the washing up or making a cup of tea.

And I,m thinking: What if this goes on?

What will become of me?

I’m grieving, frustrated and afraid.

But also intensely curious.

Fascinated…

We tend to take note of and celebrate the way our bodies change in childhood and adolescence…

But with aging less so.

In fact we tend to deny it. We say we’re still young at heart, or that aging is just a number, and sometimes we buy expensive cosmetics or undergo painful procedures to try to hide it.

And it brings pain and frustrations, to be sure, but joys and new discoveries also.

I want to keep exploring these here.

And keeping up my readings from the First Nations Version of the New Testament

Because, much to my surprise, I find they help me and seem to help some of you also.

And I’m grateful for this place because now regular theatre work has dried up.

The received wisdom in the theatre industry is that, oh, we love Jo, we love her work, but we can’t possibly programme it.

And that makes me cross, obviously, but there’s no point in dwelling on it.

An occupational hazard of working in a declining industry is that it’s easy to get all bitter and twisted about it.

But I won’t do that. And i won’t allow myself to be silenced either.

So here I am.

I go on little journeys these days on my mobility scooter. All my life I’ve loved walking through cities and exploring them on foot. It’s been horrible the way my gradual loss of mobility over the years has made this impossible for me.

But this machine, who I call Mabel, makes it possible, and I’m so grateful for that, and often I go on journeys that make me want to record and reflect on what I’ve seen.

And I bless Mabel and the kind friend who gave her to me.

The other discoveries that are coming to me these days come about as I clear my house.

I have a desk full of photographs, a chest full of drafts and diaries, and a filing cabinet full of mysteries.

And so I begin to understand my life better.

Celebrate my life better.

I want to share these discoveries, and intend to put them behind a pay wall.

And one day, who knows, they’ll be the foundations of an autobiography.

Who knows….

Day by day we’ll discover…

Tell anyone you know who might like to read this.

And encourage them to

Things I say that strike a chord; places you think me and Mabel might explore…

Just let me know