Too Old, or Maybe Not

Wouldn't you be furious if anyone ever came up to you and said, "Sir, you're too old to _____(fill in the blank)" ? Of course you would!

And yet you seem to say that to yourself on a regular basis, and seldom even notice, much less take umbrage. Apparently, you're the only one allowed to judge you for being "too old" to wear that oddly flat cap or those brightly purple pants; too old to dance wildly on the dance floor anymore. Too old to travel to distant Third World countries with your sensitive stomach; to shoot hoops with younger dudes without hurting yourself or hang out in noisy bars populated by people who aren't even a third your age.

So, what if you no longer enjoy leaving your comfort zone very often? That's not a function of age, but of experience, of having learned to discern the difference between what energizes and what depletes your energy. At least, that's what you tell yourself. It's not a question of mind over matter, much less trying to shatter societal stereotypes about aging. It's a question of learning to be at peace with any given circumstance.

Why keep glancing around the dance floor to see who's watching your moves, wondering If they approve or disapprove? Smooth transitions are science fiction; no matter where your mind travels, there's always a judge's gravel somewhere in the back of your head, ready to pass judgment on your thoughts, feelings and actions.

Time to let go of worrying about whether you're good enough to succeed at a given task. Why linger in doubt about the multiple hypothetical options and possible paths forward? At any given moment, there's only one step you can take right now.

Perhaps the phone rings or a truck driver slams on his brakes in front of you, and suddenly your life takes an unexpected turn, giving you another opportunity to learn something new from someone/something you've never encountered before. There's no way of knowing what comes next, no way to plan for the unforeseen bends in the road. Why not trust that you're being led forward toward the edge of your existence, where resistance is not only futile but counterproductive?

Imagine if you were to arrive at the grocery store and meet a man just outside the front door who insists that he's got an important question to ask you. Is he crazy? Maybe. But your intuition says it might be best to pause and listen, to ignore the sweat glistening on his forehead, as well as your desire to rush by, wrapped in your sense of urgency, propelled forward by your self-importance.

As you stand there, weighing your options, the stranger leans in and asks with a sly grin: " If this were your last minute on earth, how would you choose to spend it? And... why not spend it that way right now, right here?"

You smile, nod silently, turn and walk away, moving more deliberately than you were before.