I watched a rather lovely movie yesterday, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, based on a home for the ‘elderly and the beautiful.’ I was torn between the good, and the melancholy of it: how short life is, and fleeting life is. An old man has withered all his life pining for another man: I am afraid I will turn into him. An old woman has spent all her life in blind trust of her husband of forty years: I am afraid I will turn into that woman. A grumpy woman has spent all her life with the wrong man: I am afraid I will turn into that nitpicking, old woman. And, a suave sixty year old has spent all her life looking: I am afraid I too, will never find…
There were many wise bits thrown into the movie, letting go, and discovering yourself through the places around you, and most of all…discovering the moment when you can let go. At what point in you life can you let things affect you, and just break down? At what point can you stop being strong?
The movie seems to suggest: When you’re old, or perhaps, when you’re faced with death.
I couldn’t wait that long.