I no longer care

I am fifty-two. All the clichés are true. Time changes everything. That’s hardly a revelation to anyone older than me, and those of a similar vintage are probably nodding along with all the wisdom we’ve collated. We like to tell ourselves we’re ageing like fine wine, and I think there’s a little truth in that. I mean, we are ageing. One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed recently is something that hasn’t happened all at once. I realise now it’s been creeping up on me for years. Hindsight brings older posts into a new, stark focus. Here’s the thing: I no longer care about a surprising number of things. This is a good thing, as it’s left me with much more room to care about the things that matter. It’s not that I’ve become cynical. I have not given up. Quite the opposite, in fact. If anything, I care just as deeply as I always have about many things. The change is that I’ve just become much more selective about what deserves my attention. All the small things When you’re younger it…