I'm Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself: One Woman's Pursuit of Pleasure in Paris

by Glynnis MacNicol

Certainly, one of the benefits of being in your forties must be the knowledge that depending on anything external to fundamentally transform you is a fool’s errand.

What I was left with was the understanding that the more you moved, the longer your life felt. Whether it was actually longer, I’m not sure. But every time I am behind an elderly person creeping up Broadway, or lurching their way around Zabar’s, I think of this—this determination to keep moving—and resolve to stretch more.

Actual maturity, I’ve come to suspect, is largely just succeeding at not letting the injuries of your childhood debilitate you, which is the great challenge of life.

This, I think, is what maturity actually means most of the time. It has little to do with growing away from the things that bring us pleasure or joy or just silly fun. It most often just means kindness. Knowing how to give it, to ourselves and others, and also receive it.