Living Life Backwards

It is surely a sign of age but I increasingly find myself in conversations with people (especially my nearest and dearest) which go along the lines of ‘You know that woman who was in that series when her mother disappeared, and yes, yes the mother was also in the West Wing and she was the lover of the young bloke who got lost in Idaho, come on, you remember. Anyway, he is in a play on in London which got good reviews. No, not sure what its called but might be worth making the effort to see.’

So, I was listening to a programme on Radio 4 presented by a bishop, I can’t remember which, quoting a man, can’t remember who, about living life backwards.

Obviously I cannot remember it exactly but it struck me as marvellous. So, I will try and re-tell it – needless to say it is not an exact reproduction.

You start life in a old people’s home, frail, dependent, maybe unhappy but you get younger and younger, more active and independent, until they throw you out.

Then you start retirement and you get to take up a new hobby, have leisure time, go for walks, do some volunteering, have nice holidays.

Then as time goes on, you get back into work. You are relaxed about it at first, but then you get more and more ambitious and work harder and you meet someone and set up home.

Then you find yourself at university – lots of energy, social life and ability to get up after a great night out and three hours sleep and still go to lectures and take it in…..

Then you go back to school and re-learn all sorts of stuff, head back into primary school and being love with stuffed toys.

Then you find yourself being fed by lovely people and being tickled and thrown up into the air, enjoying putting your toes in your mouth and having songs sung to you before you got to sleep.

And then, back into the womb with an endless comfort of security and finally, finally, you go out in an orgasm.

Brilliant.

If only it was like that.

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