“You can’t help getting older, but you don’t have to get old.” -George Burns
Today is my birthday. I was born close to noon, so I like to think that explains my penchant for sleeping late. And since I tend to be more of a thinker than a talker, they have a way of always inspiring reflection.
I can remember situations when I was around six or seven that I’d do differently if I could, but I’d not want to rewind my life completely and start over again, practically from square one. Yuck. Can you imagine?
Then there’s the batch of things from my pre-teen and teen years which would also be great to do over. Alas, no luck.
College? Too many things to count. I might’ve majored in advertising, but a lot of my electives delivered a minor in how to deeply wound oneself and carry guilt around for years to come. I’d have made a fantastic Catholic. Still would.
My 20s were spent a-chasin’, as my grandmother used to say. Indeed, I chased too much: stuff, work experience, friendships, relationships and forgiveness. The only thing worthy in that list of chasing is forgiveness, in my opinion, although that comes in time — with a lot of patience and love to me, from me. Everything else that needs chasing isn’t a need at all. It’s a waste of time.
And that’s what my 30s have taught me so far: what’s a waste, what’s been a waste, what’s been worthy and what’s important for the future.
With the exception my needy knee and a few other minor-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things issues (hopefully they stay that way), I don’t feel 37. My boss told me I don’t look it, either, so I suppose that’s a good thing.
Emotionally, however, I feel like a three-year-old on some days, and like a beat up 80-something on others. I suppose that’s my area for improvement over the next few years, until my 40s delivers a new piece of the puzzle. Emotional consistency.
Tonight I am thankful for another year in the books and for the knowledge — with the occasional shimmer of wisdom — that life brings. We certainly can’t stop getting older, but we can avoid getting old by keeping that same child-like, wide-eyed curiosity of our youth and carrying it with us through the decades. It won’t be a bandage for our missteps and it certainly won’t be a compass, but it’s mandatory for resiliency and healing, for blazing new trails and for finding new stones to turn over.
Happy Birthday!
Thanks, David!
Happy Birthday beautiful friend! Cheers to 2014!
Thanks, lady!