There is this feminist blog, which was the first blog I ever read. It was so popular at some point (in 2008-9) that Amazon was recommending it to readers. The blog was good but not fantastic, and while I was reading it I decided that I could definitely do at least just as good as its authors, and probably even better. So it was one of the reasons I started blogging.
This week, the authors of the blog in question announced that they will be closing it in the nearest future. One of the authors explained this decision by saying that she doesn't have much to say to the world any more. Another author shared that her life today consisted of deciding what to make for dinner and quibbling with her husband about who would get the lunch-box ready for tomorrow.
To me, this is seriously scary. You live an interesting life, have opinions, political convictions, get people to participate in important discussions. And then one day you wake up and realize that your world has been reduced to the contents of a lunch-box and the dinner menu. This isn't about blogging per se, of course. Whether people blog or not is really immaterial. What I find so mind-boggling is how does it happen that intelligent, educated, opinionated, talented people suddenly discover that their life has been reduced to nothing but a list of trivialities? And also, how do people reconcile themselves to this if they still remember the time when they had things to say to the world?
This is my definition of old age, and it has nothing to do with one's date of birth. An intellectual and spiritual stagnation is what makes you old, whether you are 15 or 95. And I hope not to live to see the day when I wake up and discover that I have nothing more to say, no more opinions to offer, and no more interests to pursue.