Every seven years

Every cell in your body is changed over a seven-year period.

Isn't that fascinating?
I know there are things I wouldn't have eaten in my childhood that I readily eat now. Broccoli tops the list. And raw spinach in my salad. I never cared much for the veggies.
My body continually changes, of course. I've got the lovely premature gray that has been passed down the female generations. Hair coloring does the trick for that one.

But lately, I FEEL different.
Could be all the changes in my life. And God knows, there have been MANY. But I've calmed down a bit in my mid-thirties.
In my early twenties, I was easily led. And that led to many unpleasant experiences. In my mid-to-late twenties, I shifted the paradigm and became a ball-buster.
(Gee. I didn't really have to take someone's BS. Therefore, I didn't. And it made me a rather hard person.)
But this last year, I've mellowed quite a bit personally.
I've come to realize that not everything can be put on a list. And even if it's on a list, it may not get done. And there are things on lists that I can save for another time.
I've learned to let some things go.
And this has been a problem that has always been there. Pieces of things that clung to me and didn't want to leave. From force of habit, possibly. But I've shed them and left them in the dust. I'm lighter for it.

So I approach my thirty-fifth birthday with anticipation. New cells and all.
I believe in this:
At thirty-five comes a solidity factor that gives you the opportunity to say, "Wait a minute. If I am going to do that, whom do I have to listen to?" If you are cutting and severing the influences of the past, you are probably, for the first time, deciding for yourself what you want to do. It is a freedom factor. Understand that when we talk about the cycles of growth, we are not saying that at the age of thirty-five you cut off everybody you know and hate your parents. We are saying you finally separate those concepts which are really yours from those which belong to somebody else.

A mellower, more-complete me. Sounds good. My new cells and I are pleased.
Grins*