Turning seventy does make me more aware of my mortality, but not in a morbid way, more in a sense of gratitude in how my life is today and how precious each day has

become. In many ways it feels as though I am having a second youth, an added ability to go for things, things in the past that would have filled me with absolute terror such as

writing, recording and singing my own song to a group of people I’d never met before!! It demands I live life to the full and push myself out of my comfort zone without the fear of

looking foolish. Turning seventy is a reminder to follow my heart, and listen to its call. I had very quietly dreaded the thought of becoming such an age. Even though I celebrated

my sister’s seventieth, a faint whisper wafted through my thoughts as she blew out her candles and I clapped my hands. I was safe, I thought smugly, knowing I was still deeply

entrenched inside my sixties for another three-and-a-half years. I was with my brother as he celebrated his seventieth, knowing I still had eighteen months before my own seven

zero. But when it did arrive, when I actually turned seventy, I felt nothing but joy. I celebrated with a party and dancing in a room filled with good friends and most of my family (a

few were in LA and unable to attend.) As I blew out my candles and listened to the sound of clapping, I knew, as I looked out at the sea of smiling candle-lit faces that I was

celebrating something other than my birthday. I was celebrating that this room full of people all looking at me were part of my everyday life. A sense of deep love and gratitude

swept over me, for my life and all the people who are part of it.

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