I recently celebrated my sixty-second birthday. Those words, sixty-second, seem incredibly foreign to me. I feel like I ought to be in my mid forties or even younger.
Part of me doesn’t mind being sixty-two at all. Part of me can’t believe that I am sixty-two. I don’t know what happened. How did the years slip by so quickly?
Part of me wishes I had done a better job loving my family. Part of me has made peace with those regrets long ago.
Part of me feels that I never achieved my potential, or even came close. I wonder why I have always had a longing to achieve something that has been so illusive. But I have mostly let the go of the past. I am still trying to achieve that potential, but it looks quite a bit different.
In some ways, I am crankier. At least I speak my mind far more candidly. I seem old, even to myself, when I complain about the digitalization of society, customer service, popular music, and know-it-all kids (in their 20’s and 30’s.)
In other ways I have mellowed out and figure my job is to just to love people as they are and to respect their own journey.
In some ways I feel wiser like I know something. That seems reasonable at this age.
In other ways, I am just as lost as ever, struggling at times to get a handle on my attitude and emotions.
In some ways my world is bigger because I am more open minded about a lot of things than I used to be and I try to grow it even larger through intentional learning.
In other ways my world is smaller and I am happy to keep it that way with just a few family and friends in the circle.
Sometimes, I think about things that people my age think about, like retirement, money, health issues, estate planning, taxes, and death. But I don’t like listening to other people my age drone on about these things
I feel as alive as ever, if not more so, and very ready for an adventure.
But most of all, I think it best to limit the reflections and aspirations, and just be fully alive and engaged in this very moment.