Having just attained the grand old age of 60, I was asked what it was like now that I was “mature”. I thought about this for a moment and the first thing that came into my head was cheese! But not just any cheese – a really rancid, mouldy, smelly cheese! One that would seer the sense of smell out of any pair of nostrils! Not a good image! And then someone said that I was not mature but “ripe”! And you know the same image came into my mind. What is it with me and cheese?
Many words in the English language can have different connotations and can conjure up different pictures in the mind – often quite opposed images.
If I was to consider myself mature I would rather think of being a fine wine from which others can derive pleasure from the occasional sip.
And if I was ripe it would please me to know that the harvest of fruit from my life was helpful and encouraging to those around me.
I certainly don’t want to be the cause of any great stink!
