On it being too late

A few years back Scarlett came out of bed late at night, sobbing uncontrollably.

Eventually she managed to tell me what was wrong. She’d made a big mistake giving up piano.

I told her I didn’t think it was too late to start again.

She was 8 at the time.

The thing is, mostly it’s not too late … whether you’re 8 or 80.

I regret not doing a better job summarising the books I’ve read. If only I’d started summarising a book a month 20 years ago.

It’s easy to think at 50 it’s now too late. I’ve missed the boat on that. But I could start now, and do that for the next 20 years. (Turns out summarising books is not actually something I now want to do.)

But better to be honest with myself than tell myself it’s too late.