“‘You are coming to my 50th of course?” asked my friend Tim.
I was having a meal at his place the other night.
“I wouldn’t miss it!”
I’ve been to a few of Tim’s 50th’s. They’re always a fun weekend. Maybe there was one of them where he actually turned 50 but I’m not sure…
The older I get the more noticeable it becomes that we all age differently and that the biggest difference is not about the wrinkles, grey hair or saggy bits we start to get. Instead it all boils down to how we see ourselves and the story we tell ourselves about ageing.
I’ve met young people who are “old.” Not in that wise “old-soul” spiritual sense but in a life-weary let’s-just-get-this-over-and-done-with sense. They have a picture of life and their duties and obligations in it and they put their head down and simply get on with the job of ploughing through it just like they’re supposed to. Ageing becomes a series of tick-the-boxes milestones. You feel worn out just talking to them and can’t believe it when you find out they’re only 22…
At the other end I’ve met a host of 90+ers who are younger than me. You know the ones who run around having all kinds of adventures and learning new things and when they tell you their age in numbers it’s almost impossible to believe. My 101 year-old Great Aunt whips her car through city traffic with a confidence that I’ll never have. Her Dad died in his sleep at 88…after a night out dancing.
So, what is it that creates such a vast difference.
What is it that makes us “old” or “young”? Continue reading