This is 45 – an ode to ageing...

It’s ma birthday tomorrow. Gonna party like it’s me birthday. Although, I draw the line at Bacardi!

Willkommen! Bienvenue! Welcome!

So here I am. About to turn 45 years of age. Tomorrow.

I’m often told I could get away with 38 – and I’ll take that. But the reality of ageing? It’s not so bad. Right now, I feel like I have my shit together. You know when to go to bed. You know when to avoid the party. You know what to eat and drink. You know that eight hours of sleep is essential. You know how to work out.

You just ‘get’ life.

I’ve started to understand when my elders would always say “well, I don’t feel my age”. I absolutely don’t feel 45. I’m late twenties in my head. Maybe early 30s. The twenties were so annoying. I didn’t have a clue on who you were until the 30s hit. Even then maybe I didn’t.

I must admit, I’m somewhat fortunate. I’m childless and have rarely dealt with any sort of sleep interruption. I can’t even begin to imagine not getting a good night sleep. Aside from when I’ve had a skinful and I’ve been staring at the ceiling praying to God for some kip. But that’s more than a rarity these days.

I’ve put myself on a self-enforced lockdown out here in Ibiza of late and it’s been a joy. Early nights, lots of list making, a pretty strict routine to keep me happily bouncing out of bed at 6.30am.

Hiking, eating well, training lots and I’m doing the hikes of my dreams – mostly solo.

I’ll occasionally do a silent section of the hike with a question to think about for twenty-or-so minutes. Proper woo woo shit. Last week’s hike was “what are you grateful in your life”. I went through so much of my life in those twenty minutes on the clock. Friends, family, health etc. That sort of thing just helps to reset things.

I also decided to swim nude on my hike when I reached the bottom of the hike. That was nice. Not a soul around, naturally. No jellies. I just got naked, let the water wash over me and listened to the silence of that special cove I cherish so much.

You see, these days silence is a virtue. I fucking love it. Sure, I popped into a club last week. Two. But they weren’t for massive all-night benders. They were literally a pop-in. And that was fine.

So, what does the future hold? Well, I’m in the keep calm and carry on mode. Everything feels tickety boo right now. I’m single. I’m happy. I’m just getting myself out of bed with a smile on my face right now. What a nice position to be in?

A couple of weeks ago my mum visited out here. It was a bank holiday back home, so we hit the beach and had dinner together every night. On the last evening, we had maybe two extra glasses of wine each and I opened conversations I’ve wanted to have with her for years. Just about family life, about losing my dad and we even discussed the fact I once got a medium into my house on a mission to talk to my late Dad.

This guy came into my flat and we began. You know the jobby, crystals everywhere, cards, candles. The works. Genuinely, the lights flickered when we started. I remember being desperate for my dad to come through and for us to have some sort of final conversation with him.

“There’s a woman here,” said the medium. “She’s spinning a ring on her middle finger and wants to discuss something with you.”

I knew immediately it was my nan - who had died a year or so beforehand – who had come through to talk to me. I should have known better to have thought my dad would have come through for a chit chat.

“She says she’s worried about you and your partying,” he continued. “She says you need to be very careful because you’re very close to being out of control and having a problem that will ruin your life.”

Great, even my deceased Nan was telling me off. The reality? She was right. I was being a naughty boy and needed a shock to the system like this. I’d been spending close to ten years numbing the pain of my father’s death with booze and late nights.

I immediately wised up and cleaned up my act. I stopped ending up at the house party until God knows when with randoms. I got a therapist and had some proper grief counselling – which was very much needed. I worked through the troubles with my dad in those sessions. And it was all because of my dead nan. You couldn’t make it up.

BTW – said medium didn’t know my name, my back story, any history or who he was meeting. I’d insisted on being called “Steve” on the text exchange before he arrived. And my nan was the only person I knew who span her ring as a method of relaxing when she was watching TV.

When I told my Mum she immediately got chills over the story. That chat was just one on that evening that really needed to happen. I never take for granted having a parent who is alive. We holiday every year together for at least two weeks if we can make it happen and it’s always the best of times. Especially at a time when I’ve got friend’s parents falling each week. Literally in the past six weeks I think I’ve had a close friend each week lose a parent. I guess that’s a consequence of our age. In the nicest possible way, they’re dropping like flies right now.

I guess part of the process of ageing is realising our own mortality. Realising it’s not going to last forever too. Making the most of evert day on this planet. Trying to make some sort of a difference. I’m not sure what that is really. I haven’t got kids. I don’t have a lineage I’ll be leaving behind. But there’s got to be something, right? Maybe it’s energy. Maybe it’s not being an unbearable cunt. Maybe it’s just ensuring you do as many little things to keep the smile going. Whatever it is, I’m looking for it and she might have been an evasive little bitch up until now but the older I get the more I feel I’m getting close to cracking it. That game called life.

I want to live in the moment. Not rush through the year looking at the future dates in the diary. I want to do as much as possible to slow it all down and I’m trying my very best.

I’ll leave you saying let’s all just try harder to be decent humans. It doesn’t matter how you do it. Just try. There’s so much going on right on right now in the world that stems from hatred. Trump in LA just this week, the Gaza situation, Russia in general and the trans community being bombarded. It just feels like a lot. Anything we can do to strive to be better is a great thing. And hey, that’s our own superpower. The power to control our own narrative.

Go grab it by the balls.

In the meantime, I’ll start my birthday celebrations here in the sunshine. Until next time…

AND FINALLY…

I’m once again running the PR for Flackstock – the festival in memory of our friend Caroline Flack. The first three years have raised over £700,000 for four amazing charities – Mind, the Samaritans, Choose Love and the Charlie Waller Trust.

This year’s line-up was just announced this week – with more to come soon! So do yourself a favour and grab your tickets today. It’s a cracking day out and it’s now on a Friday and within London at the Crstal Palace Bowl as part of the South Facing Festival.

Come say hi if you do come! Tickets can be found HERE.