Perhaps this is just wishful thinking on my part. That age is irrelevant. I mean, I know it isn’t. But perhaps life is better lived with this notion, this idea that it matters less than we say it does.
The more time we have living, the more experiences we get to enjoy, share, and live. And the shorter our lives, the less of those we get to experience.
Last night I sat on the couch watching St. Elmo’s Fire with my daughter. Reliving the 80s and my life. She was interested in why things were a certain way and who I was back then. It was sweet to remember a time when there were no cellphones, no internet, no social media. Truth be told, life was just as complicated then as it is now, just very differently so. Love was also just as complicated, also just differently so.
I found myself being grateful for the experiences, then and now. And all the life I lived in between. All the concerts I’ve attended, all the heartbreak and loss, all the love I have fallen into, all the shit I have survived and actually turned into fertile soil for growing, changing and living a good life.
I have borne witness to many sunsets and sunrises. So many. And each have changed me. I am never the same person I am when I wake up each day. On this journey through life, I am always and forever changing, growing and living. Which really does make age irrelevant because I cannot stop time. I cannot stop the moving from one day to the next. I am here in this life, living each moment as it comes and there is nothing I can do about it except surrender to all of life’s differing lessons in each season I pass through in this life.
There is no season more important than the other. Youth had its benefits but so does middle age. And I am sure as I move to the next season, I will find advantages there as well. And having been this human being in constant and perpetual motion, I look forward to the slowing down, the less and less to do. I really do look forward to doing less and less of what I must do and more and more of what I want.
I stand on this middle ground of life and see the incredible vantage point of my existence. I can see the past, review and relive the youth I spent and how much of it I failed to thoroughly enjoy all while I welcome in the decay of living. I can watch my face crease and wrinkle, gravity have its way with me and I can just accept it as it comes and learn new things about myself.
In so many ways, aging is this great unfolding of new ways to let go and be present in an ever failing body and mind. Leading us all to the ultimate decay...of either mind, body or both. And I can just accept it and realize that we are all going through it...each day that passes leads us closer to the end of living and whatever waits for us in the beyond.
For me, I see this time as my life continues to unfold as time for me to change up my yardstick for living. How many lives have I touched and loved? How many experiences have I got to share? How much of life have I welcomed fully and completely? How much of my heart have I given? How many concerts attended? How many photos taken and enjoyed? How much sex have I had and shared that bodily pleasure with another? How much have I been able to heal myself and in that process heal others also? How much work have I done that is productive and kind and loving? How much of this life have I spent making others feel safe in my presence? How many animals have I been lucky enough to love and care for? How much of living have I actually packed into each day?
Living is always a choice. And I can measure it by money in my bank account or cars in the driveway or houses I own. But those are really poor yardsticks that matter not at all. For me, all of living is best measured by how much I cared, how much I loved and how tenderly I treated myself and others. So age naturally becomes less and less relevant, because the benefit of living more days is the opportunity to give of myself and really enjoy this life. To be grateful for all things, good and bad, great and small, peaceful and anxiety producing. They all bear testament to life and living.
And I love this life I have. All of it. The good days, the bad days, the great sweeping changes and the deeply worn ruts of living. And I choose to count the days in measure of sunsets seen and love given and received, of experiences enjoyed and shared, books read, words written, safety provided and presence granted.
Age is irrelevant, unless you become so preoccupied with the process that you lose its meaning. Life is here today, no guarantee of any tomorrows. So let’s be joyful in this day we are given and mark its existence by enjoying it fully, doing good in this world today and loving what is, even if we understand it fleetingly. Age, is only one yardstick by which to measure...and it pales when compared to all the others ways one could choose to measure the progress of living.
Again.
Still.
