I am listening to a piece of music I last listened to seriously when I was 21 years old.
One night I stayed at home, turned off all the lights and the phone and switched on the large state-of-the-art 80s black stereo.
I remember so vividly staring starry eyed at the ceiling, and being filled with the deepest excitement: a fathomless black velvet pent up possibility, potential energy of the deepest, most profound kind.
I lay in darkness, and alone, in my flat. I was filled to overflowing with the infinite inventiveness of the universe into which I had been born.
My life lay stretching before me: a man, a life of the pen, the possibility of fame or infamy, the yet-unfurled life, a great Via Apia reaching over a life-landscape. An open book? It was a great epic play, a film, a masterpiece waiting to happen.
And now I listen again. And in the way only music can, it pulled me straight back to lying there in a darkened room listening to Rachmaninov with a Cher 80s hairdo and a heart full of dreams.
And I have lived a full 48 years. Perhaps a year ago I might have looked back at a fairly conventional family life and experienced regret.
But here’s the thing: in just 12 months life has put me in a handcart and tipped me upside down. And as I listen once again to the velvet clarion call, I realise that this is the moment we, in and around our mid life, wait for.
We come into our zenith as we reach our half century, and all the experiences, the pain, the drudgery, the joy and celebration, the family life and moments snatched alone; all the times you have stood utterly alone for those you love: it equips you for something. Is it why they burned people our age as witches? We knew too much, Morganas every one of us.
So: if you are standing in mid life, I would counsel you to listen once again to the dreams of your youth. Not only is it not too late to achieve them: any time before now would have been too soon.
The person for the job is You: and the moment is Now.