I know there is a poem out there that encourages older women to wear purple, a red hat and defiance. Well maybe they don’t actually wear defiance unless it’s a facial expression. Perhaps this is that poem. I’ve always hated it.
I will never purposely wear something that identifies me with a mindset and certainty not the one described in the poem.
Then again I have never had to make up for lost time. I partied, broke silly rules and generally lived how I chose to live with no regrets.
I guess there are people who didn’t have this opportunity but really why would you spit, steal flowers and horde things? This is not living. This is decaying.
Now savouring fine food, growing a garden and repurposing things is a life. My backpack is perhaps the only thing that sets me apart from more dignified “older women.” These are the people who don’t tramp through forests, sleep in dormitories or drink Sangria with other pilgrims. This is not defiance. This is community, coming together to find a purpose and to redefine what is sacred in life. It doesn’t need a purple coat or a red hat.