I can't tell you the exact moment it happened. It just did. It was like a switch flipped. I was suddenly looking at life from the other direction, from the latter years. I was no longer viewing the world, its wonders, it problems, its possibilities, its craziness, in the same way. Rather, I was seeing it from the perspective of a mature person with an arsenal of life and experiences behind her. I was looking through the eyes of a person who is closer to the end rather than the beginning of her existence.
Don't get me wrong. I don't have a sudden urge to sport the obligatory gray permed hair, stretch pants and flora or fauna motifed sweatshirts. I'm also not sitting around waiting until I die. I'm not even anywhere near the end of my bucket list (I recently went back and actually crossed off a few items). My imagination, my childlike curiosity and my sense of adventure still exist. It's just that I sometimes spend time looking back At this point, there's more behind me than there is likely to be in front. When I do this, I dwell on that which I should have done differently. Sometimes, but not as frequently, I celebrate my achievements. This makes me sad.